Ozymandias
by InfamousTricks
Summary: Refusing to kill Greta and unable to produce the caps for Charon's contract, Ahzrukhal offers another solution to the lone wanderer's predicament; if she can survive a weaponless attack from Charon and work for him for a whole month, he would give her his contract, but at what price and to what depths is the lone wanderer willing to sink to in order to rescue a man she's never met?
1. Small Beginnings

Note: Hey internet, I apologise to any American readers for the English spelling, I hope you can overlook it. So this is my first fanfiction and came up with it after thinking of various ways in which I could get Ahzruhkal to live a little longer without Charon blowing his head off because he's an interesting character that sadly doesn't get as much attention as he deserves. Enjoy.

Charon felt his jaw tense. His long fingers curled into tight fists as his glassy eyes swept expectantly to look at the splintering wooden doors of The 9th Circle, the way he always had when he heard footsteps approaching. Before the person had even swung those doors open and stepped into the darkest, most dangerous putrid pit in Underwold, he began, out of the orders of the contract, to analyze what lay behind it, and more importantly what threat it possessed.

The light footsteps whispered the suggestion it was a female. The left footfall was slightly louder. She carried her (heavy) gun on the left side, meaning she was right handed. As the footsteps got louder and closer, his eyelids slid shut and he listened to the bullets and ammo rustle and lap together in her pockets like a sea of metal, making slight, almost inaudible chiming noises.

Beneath his stoic, unchanging facial expressions, a slight spark of interest ignited before he killed it with a trained restraint. She had shotgun shells. That might be useful. Charon swallowed, and straightened himself to his full height as he locked his eyes back to the doors. He almost hoped the woman would start something. He needed the shells. His fingers twitched, longing for the embrace of the trigger.

The left door opened, the tiniest crack allowing an eerie orange glow to cast a blade of light into the poorly lit bar. The small woman slipped through this gap, and gently shut the door behind her, as quietly as she could. Once taking a swift, wary look around for danger, and after feeling none was being presented, she stood a little taller, missing the shadow that glared at her from the corner. A human. Charon hadn't seen one in Underworld in a long time. It didn't matter to him, he still willed her to make a wrong move. God, he needed those shells. After his last little "errand" he ran for Ahzrukhal he was only left with ten, and Shotgun shells were hard to scavenge, and he didn't get bottle caps, not even to feed himself. If he needed to eat, he'd just go out and kill something, simple. Finding a precious rarity as shotgun shells, however, was an entirely different matter.

He watched as her chest deflated with a deep sigh, and she reached up to the back of her head, untangling her nearly white blonde hair from a messy bun, and letting it fall, tumbling down past her shoulders and reaching half way down her rib cage.

Charcoal, a name she had found everyone started calling her after she left the vault, felt the tension from her aching brain go toppling down along with her hair. Having it scraped back all the time was numbingly uncomfortable, but none the less a necessity out in the wastes. She couldn't afford a loose lock blinding her vision when she aimed to snipe a Super Mutant or when she was battling off Raiders. She shrugged her aching shoulder that was beginning to nag for a rest under the weight of her shotgun. She adjusted it, and walked over to the bar. She hesitated as she tried to find one that wasn't stained with bodily fluid that had faded to a nasty colour so that it was almost impossible to tell what it actually was. After failing, she sat heavily down and eyed the man in the dirty pinstriped white suit. He had his back to her as he grumbled under his breath whilst trying to find something in the fridge. She heard something metal moan and then snap with a crack.

"Shit. Fucking place is falling apart, why do I even..." Ahzrukhal snarled, hurling the door shut and spinning on his heels, freezing at the sight of Charcoal who was patiently waiting for him to notice and serve her. She smiled out of politeness, which was met by a dark, eerie smirk that crept open like an old war wound.

"Well, I never. A smoothskin, down in Underworld. Haven't seen your kind in a while," He stepped forward, placing one palm flat against the bar and the other courteously tucked behind his back. Charon felt a grimace beg to be let out onto his face as he watched the Ghoul's eyes wander up and down the tiny woman's little frame. Charon wondered if she even reached 5'3.

"And what is your name...Persephone?" He cocked his head to the side, and smiled as charmingly as he could, which turned out to be actually quite sickening. Charcoal had already a good idea what kind of man Ahzruhkal was. Blind with the delusions of self importance and incredibly arrogant, which meant he was going to be easy to play to get what she wanted. Her polite smile now curled with a hint of playfulness.

"If I am Persephone, who are you?" She asked, leaning onto the bar top with both elbows.

"You'll just have to find out, won't you?" Ahzruhkal chuckled. "So...what's your poison?" Charcoal straightened, and bit her plump bottom lip, that almost looked blood red against the stark whiteness of her skin.

Charon watched from afar, eyes narrowed as he continued studying his opponent. He had to admire her choice in weapon, though it was badly looked after and he wondered if her long, skinny arms could even take the recoil of it. However the thing that had captured his attention was her skin. She wasn't just pale, she was nearly iridescent, like her skin had never shown itself to the sun before, turning instead to bathing in the moonlight and after growing used to it's presence had began to mimic it's surface.

He watched Ahzruhkal hand her a beer, and as she reached out to get it, he caught a glimpse of her bare wrist, the veins underneath bold blue and purple, each perfectly defined and encased in the strange skin. It looked like a hollowed out diamond filled with milk. Then it struck him. Was this the new creature that had crawled it's way out of the vault? It would make sense then that her skin had simply given up on producing any sort of pigment.

Charcoal felt Ahzruhkal's rough fingers brush against her own as she took the bottle, and had to restrain her whole body from shuddering in revulsion. Ghouls didn't bother her, but creepy evil bastards did. She'd heard too much about what Ahzruhkal does from the muted words of the citizens of Underworld, always whispered in hushed tones incase the walls themselves were his faithful allies, ready and waiting to report. Before he could start talking again, Charcoal decided to get to the point.

"I never got your name, what is it?" She smiled politely, taking a deep swig that stung the back of her throat and felt warm all the way down her wind pipe. What was in this beer?

"My name is Ahzruhkal, bar owner, respected citizen," He grinned the same wound like smile again, the one that made her own smile twitch.

"Ahzruhkal..." She breathed out his name, giving it a slightly exotic foreign ring to it, which made his grin grow even wider than it already was. Charcoal wondered if it was going to split his face in two. But it was a good move, it appealed his ego which probably dwarfed the Washington monument.

"Ahzruhkal, who's the guy in the corner?" She watched his eyebrow raise up, and heard the cringing silence that followed her questions, before the others around her quickly began muttering to each other again, however this time, much quieter.

"Now why would you want to know?" He said, his smile turning a little twisted at the ends.

"Indulge me...please?" She pouted sulkily, twirling a strand of her albino hair absent mindedly. She _would_ get this Ghoul to free Charon. There was nothing more she hated than slavery, even Supermuntants were one down on the list, though only just. After hearing the stories she'd came to the 9th Circle to try and win his freedom. She was a silver tongued devil, and could talk even the most cunning into selling the clothes off their own backs to simply satisfy her whim, and she knew if she played her cards right with Ahzruhkal, she could free the "Charon" she kept hearing about.

"Oh don't pull that face," He chuckled under his breath and swept a flaking hand through what remained of his hair. "His name is Charon. I am his employer, he does...jobs for me, usually I send him out into the wastes and he comes back with ammo, caps, and a whole lot of blood drenched over him," He let out a barking laugh that ended in a long, drawn out wheeze.

"So...he's an employee?" She asked skeptically, using her hand to prop up her head.

"That's what I said,"

"It's what you said but it's not what you actually mean, is it?" She said it softly, in a light tone so her point didn't sting to harshly. His face drooped a little despite this, and he put his hands on the sides of his waist. Business face. This wasn't what she was aiming for.

"You want to talk about his contract do you?"

"I want to talk about you doing me favour," She sighed deeply, pulling the most endearing, helpless look she could muster.

"Then Prithee tell, what can old Uncle Ahzruhkal do for you?" He leaned in close, far too close for her liking, until he was only a few inches away from her face. Despite the unpleasant breeze of his hot breath on her, she still maintained her expression.

"Well, you must know being out here for so long, that it get's a little lonely out in the wastes and-"

"How do you suggest I help?" He purred, resting his forearms flat against the bar, a new smile and a new glint in his myopic eyes she had hoped to never see shone at her, only a few centimeters away.

Charon had the stomach of a battle hardened soldier. He saw limbs rip off like crimson rose petals, gaping wounds that vomited blood and puss and felt only a complete sense of perfect apathy, and yet the sight before him made his stomach start to churn. He suppressed a shudder and blinked the thought away. It was an image he could live without. Charcoal let out a light hearted, breathy laugh.

"Well, I've also had plenty of close scrapes, and I simply don't think I can get lucky more times than I already have, and so I was looking for a companion, and I hear you might be able to help me, if you'll be so very kind," She worded her request as carefully as she could, no demands, all polite, and steering clear of using serious tones as well as keeping him buttered up. She hated resorting to this method when she spoke to men, but she simply had no choice.

"You want me to give you Charon, free of charge? Persephone, you do insult me so..."

"Oh, I would give you compensation for your loss, I assure you. But you would make me the happiest girl in the wastes if you helped me out here," She shone a smile at him, wide and toothy. Good natured, and not to flirtacious. She didn't want to put ideas into his head after she started talking about "compensation."

"I don't know...he is immeasurably invaluable...2000 caps...and we'll call it quits,"

"2000 caps!" She spluttered, recoiling in shock. She cursed herself. Bad move. Breaking character.

"Or nothing at all...unless you decide to run me an errand. You see I have a problem. Greta. You know her don't you? I know you do. Well, she needs taking care of," He smirked.

Charcoal felt a pang in her chest. She couldn't bring herself to kill Greta, even if she wasn't exactly her favourite person in the world, but he didn't have the caps for it either. After having to stock herself up to the teeth with ammo from running around acting as Three Dog's errand girl and charging head first at pissed off Supermutants, she'd only 524 left. She should have known Ahzruhkal would have asked for caps and that she couldn't have gotten him for free. He was a business man after all, and apparently not as dumb as she anticipated. Shit.

"1000 might be a bit closer to my buying bracket," She said, folding her arms across her chest and deciding not to acknowledge Ahzruhkal's second option. He let out a genuine laugh.

"2000, darling. 2000 or nothing if you're talking caps. But then again, you may have some other qualities that lend themselves to mind. Maybe you could work off a debt?" He pulled what he thought was a charming smile, but it was polluted with malicious intention. Charcoal dropped the act.

"I'd sooner fucking die," She snarled, snatching her bottle off the table and turning her back on him. She began to march forward taking a deep chug of her beer, as she heard Ahzruhkal laughing behind her.

"She barks, but does she bite?"

As she pulled the beer down from her face, she spotted Charon, hidden in the corner like a toy flung to the side until it had another use. She stopped in her tracks._ Keep walking, Viola, keep fucking walking._ Despite the rational voice in her head screaming at her to get out of there, she done what she did nearly 90% of the time. Ignore it. She paced over to Charon, and slammed the beer down onto the table. She didn't even reach his shoulder blades.

"Charon, I need to ask you something,"

"Talk to Ahzruhkal." He demanded, his voice with a slight growl.

"Do you want to go on an adventure?" She felt the side of her lips tug up into a half smile. Charon kept his surprise veiled under his face. _What was this woman talking about_?

"Talk. To. Ahzruhkal."

Her blonde brows knitted together._ Do it_. The irrational voice urged. She stared at his face, void of emotion, empty as a bird cage whose occupant had flown. _Do it_. She stared harder, searching for anything that might help her make a decision. Charon glared down at the tiny scrap of a woman. She had hearse bonnet black stripes across her cheeks and lining her eyes, making the gun metal blue as sharp and piercing as a sharpened steel nail. On closer inspection, he could see flecks of the remnants of burnt wood. Charcoal.

_Do it. Do it. Do it._ The irrational voice in Charcoal's head demanded louder and louder with more insistence after each time, and there was only one way to shut it up. Indulge it.

"Ahzruhkal," She announced, turning once again and sauntering up to the bar, a cocky smile slapped across her face. Ahzruhkal straightened his tie and raised an eyebrow.

"I think we need to talk business."

Thanks for getting this far chaps, hope you like it and if you do a review is massively appreciated. The next couple of chapters are already written up so expect another chapter soon. Thanks again.


	2. Hades

Okay people, I'm not good with being patient, so here's the second chapter, it's a little lengthy. I promise I will start to update about once a week, possibly twice on some occasions. But I'm planning update days to be on Fridays. Rated M for violence, language and suggestive themes.

...

"Alright then, Smoothskin, let's talk business," He chuckled under his breath.

"I will work for you, you will be my employer and I your employee, with a contract and everything...to replace Charon," The bar fell silent. No one dared talk first now. All eyes were drawn to the bar.

"Now, you sure are more pleasant to look at and helpful in a great deal of _different_ ways. You'd make me a pretty cap or two. But you cannot replace Charon. He is indispensable unless you can pay the 2,000 caps. He is my employee, faithful, stalwart and a lethal. I can pretty much point at anything and Charon hurts it," He said smirking, a challenge in his gleaming eyes.

"...Along with Charon then. I work for you for a month and through this I will pay my debt, does that sound better?" She pursed her lips, and frowned with concentration, casting deep shadows across her eyes. Ahzruhkal licked his lips.

"And what else?"

"500 caps," She said it before she could even think. Why did she always have to listen to her irrational side? Ahzrukhal thought for a moment, his smile had completely gone now and his dark brows had sunk down his face into a frown as he thought. They shot up again and he smiled brightly.

"Smoothskin, You have a deal."

"However-"

"Must there be a however?"

"However I want some ground rules. One, I will not touch you, you will not touch me without my expressed permission, nor will anyone else get this privilege without my say so, you got it? Two, don't ask me to kill people who I don't condone to be bad enough to kill and three...well, there is no three. Just two simple little rules and you have an extra pair of hands and gun power behind you."

"Except I don't, do I? What use are you to me if I can't_ use and abuse you_? Order you to kill whoever I want, whenever I want...and how am I sure you won't run off half way through the deal?"

"Then you lose nothing and if you insist you can order Charon to kill me if I either run off or refuse an order that doesn't conflict with my two rules. He is unflinching and can't not do what you tell him to...or so I've heard."

"I'm still finding it hard to see where I benefit from your employment. If I want you to kill someone, you kill them. Do that, and we have a deal,"

"I cannot make that deal. The only reason I'm doing this is to save someone and by killing other innocents, that'd defeat the purpose,"

"Innocent? You think Charon is innocent? Are you dumb, or just naive? Charon has butchered entire families while they've slept. I've seen him tear open the throats of helpless men, women and children when they've begged for mercy with a blunt steak knife. I've seen him shoot people through the kneecaps just because he enjoys watching them writhe on the ground for a bit before he puts a bullet through their brains...and you call him innocent? Do you have any idea of what you're getting yourself into?"

"No. No I don't. Do we have a deal?" She snapped, throwing her hand out, waiting for him to shake it.

Ahzruhkal was loosing his patience. The little Smoothskin was starting to grind on his last nerve. Her employment would be worthless and a hindrance if anything. It's not like Charon needed the support...but maybe with the extra help he might get his orders carried out faster as she could help him face the annoyances of the Wastes, such as Raiders and Super Mutants. He frowned. This was getting ridiculous. Suddenly an idea hit him like a slap across the face. The corners of his lips twisted into a crooked smile.

"Prove yourself you're capable,"

"And how exactly do you want me to do that?"

"I will condone you to be worth keeping around, if, and only if, you can survive fifteen seconds after I've set Charon on you. No guns, just hands and knives."

"How do I know you're going to keep your word and give me the contract?"

"I will order Charon right now to personally deliver his contract to you after the months time is complete...if you survive fighting Charon for fifteen seconds."

Charcoal mentally swore at herself. This was so far away from how it was meant to be. She stared at Charon, who had taken his place by his master's side. He towered over her and he made Super Mutants like tiny. He was at_ least_ 7 foot, he had to be...and she was only 5'3. There was no way she was going to survive. But she was small, flexible, and good at keeping a distance between her and an enemy. Due to his height and build he was bound to be sluggish compared to her, right?

"You've got yourself a deal, Ahzruhkal." She sighed and Ahzruhkal gave a smirk and he shook her hand firmly.

"Deal. Charon, if Charcoal should survive your attack after a month from tonight your contract will be in her hands. You will then take orders from her. You got me? This is an express command. You will also kill her if she refuses or neglects to perform any of my commands." Charcoal narrowed her eyes and Ahzruhkal sighed. "_So long_ as they are not against her two, and may I note _flimsily_, ground rules."

"I will do as you command,"

"Okay then, are you boys and girls ready to see a fight?" Ahzruhkal boomed, throwing his hands into the air and attracting the patrons dumbfounded stares.

"You there. Yes you, the one whose skin's falling off at the right cheek. Go out and get anybody you can, the bookies is from this moment on, open," The ghoul hobbled off and already Ahzruhkal was getting caps flung at him. Easy money.

"Are you insane? I'm betting on Charon!"

"Smoothskin hasn't got a chance. Put one hundred on Charon,"

"Four hundred on Charon!"

Charcoal thought she was drowning in the sea of "Charons" and she felt her heart begin to pound inside her ribcage. She pulled out a sharpened steak knife, and looked at Charon. Charon had just pulled out a hunting knife the size of her forearm, still stained with blackened, congealed blood from its last victim. She felt herself pale. She strung her hair back up so tight it made her scalp complain in protest at her. She ignored it. This would be the worst time possible to let loose hair fly about. Loose hair and close combat just meant another appendage that can be used to yank her back into a sharpened blade.

The bar was filling quicker than water from a burst dam and very soon a circle had enveloped itself around Ahzruhkal, people screaming out their bets, desperate for the easy caps. There was no way the smoothskin was winning.

She ran her fingers down the blade of her knife, the one she used for cutting up fillets of meat out in the wastes, but she had no intention of using it. It was her back up plan, what to use in case there was no other way out...but even then she didn't think she'd have the heart to drive a killing blow with it.

"I bet on the smoothskin."

The bar lapsed into a hush and for a moment the place transformed into a cemetery where sound itself had been laid to rest. You could almost hear the eyes sliding under their lids to face the figure in the door. Winthrop. In the silence a lone, wheezing laughter escaped someones mouth, cackling like a demented ghost.

"Good Sir, come up here and place your bet," Ahzruhkal purred through a cheshire grin. Winthrop place five hundred bottle caps in his hand.

"Are you mad, Winthrop? The Smoothskin's gonna get gutted! Why would you do that?" A ghoul with a single patch of inky black hair questioned in a rasping voice.

"Do you even know who she is? I think she'll survive, isn't that right 101?" Winthrop called out to her. Even though she felt like she was knocking on Death's door, a smile of appreciation erupted across her face.

"That's right, Winthrop. I'll get out of here and go back to collecting your scrap metal as soon as I can," She called back. The ghouls began to mutter to one another.

"Wait a minute...that's the chick on the radio? The one Three Dog howls on about?"

"I heard she went up against an entire army of Super Mutants. Fuck, she'd have to if she's been to the Museum of Technology!"

"Shit, man."

"One hundred caps on the Vaultie!"

Before long, the ghouls began to scream and bicker, calling out to place bets and this time with more zeal and a lot more bets on the "101 girl," but not even a fraction as much as Charon. Charcoal ran over to Winthrop.

"I'm freaking out, Winthrop. Why the hell did you bet on me! I don't want you filling that bastards pockets!" She sighed heavily.

"You can't think like that, you're going to survive and that's the end of it. Tulip's on your side too, says you're going to 'kick his ass' or something like that. But let's be honest here, you haven't got a chance of even scratching the man. Just for the love of God, keep ducking out of his punches and steer well clear of the knife. Don't get distracted, and please don't make me lose five hundred bottle caps. _Please_?"

Charcoal let out a laugh and tried to focus on steadying herself. She always shook with adrenaline and fear before a fight.

"So, where's Tuplip?"

"Gone to get Dr. Barrows,"

"That's encouraging,"

"Stay focused. Good luck out there, Smoothskin," Winthrop gave her a nod and stepped back into the crowd of ghouls that had lined around her and Charon in a circle. Charcoal felt her mouth go dry. She tried to swallow, but the motion only caused her dry throat to scrape painfully together. She looked at Charon, his expression still a dried piece of plain parchment like it was before.

"I don't want to hurt you," She called over to him, standing stiller than statue on the other side of the room.

Charon couldn't quite put his finger on the girl. Originally he hoped for a scenario like this so he could take her shotgun shells but now after what she was putting herself through to free him, a man she'd never even met before, he wasn't so sure he wanted to. Whether he wanted to or not though, the result was still going to be the same. Charon tried to search through a list of categorised emotions in his brain, the ones he had expertly learned to manipulate and control, for what may have spurred her into making this mental decision. Perhaps that was it. She was just mental. He made a note to himself that he'd try and put her out of her misery quickly.

Ahzruhkal stepped up onto the bar, surveying with a proud, pompous smile his puppets all aligned into their little positions, waiting for him to pull the strings. Really they were all pathetic. Every last one of them. At least he could make a few caps and get a few giggles out of watching the two figures in the center try and rip each others throats out. It was a shame it was only going to last fifteen seconds. As he stood there atop the bar, Ahzruhkal truly was the king of his domain, the puppet master...maybe even their God. After all he did giv'th and tak'th away, did he not? Ahzruhkal smiled blissfully at the comparison.

"Charon..." Ahzruhkal let his name roll off his tongue, and the room fell silent yet again. Ahzruhkal smirked. _Dance, puppets. Dance._

"After fifteen seconds you must stop, however for those fifteen seconds..."

The crowd hung off his every word, and Charcoal felt her heart try and rip clean through her chest.

"Try to kill our little Miss 101."

Charon wasted no time. He sprang forward, knife held above his head, blade held down for the best stabbing motion he could achieve and the other arm held up, blocking his torso from attack. He was not the only one who moved. As he ran forward Charcoal saw a gap between his legs and took her chance. She ran forward to meet him, ducking under Charon's swipe with the knife and slid clean through his legs landing crouched up on the other side. She flung her right leg out, and swept it at Charon's left leg whose back was still half way turned. She met his shin, but to her horror it didn't budge. It stood firmly rooted against the attack that was meant to knock him down or at least off balance. Winthrop's words echoed. _Steer well clear of the knife_. Shit.

She ducked to the right, and the blow that was meant to sever her spine instead plunged into her deltoid muscle, cutting through her black leather armor like it was Egyptian silk. She howled out in agony and thrust her shoulder, the one she had modified with raider sadist spikes, into his side, impaling him on a dozen sharpened stakes.

Charon let a snarl rip through his teeth. The girl tried to dart back out of his reach but Charon was too fast. He clamped his fingers over her smooth neck that felt like porcelain under his rough fingers, and began to squeeze, lifting her off her feet.

Charcoal felt her throat slam shut. She tried to choke, but no air came to her lungs to do so. Charon wasn't just trying to strangle her, he was attempting to cave in her windpipe. She felt the pressure of the boiling blood bubble in her head, and her eyes began to haze over, speckles of burning light already starting to flash in her vision. If she didn't do something now, she was going to die and all this would have been for nothing. She bared her teeth and thrust her knife deep into Charon's forearm, feeling the tendons sever string by string. She waited. Nothing happened. Charon's grip only got tighter, going for the kill. Her neck was close to snapping. She stared into Charon's face a felt his eyes burn. Gathering a blast of air into her mouth, she spat into his grimacing face. Charon's face blanked in shock. The grip loosened for a moment.

Charcoal slammed a punch into his jaw, causing his brain to ricochet into his skull with a force that would have caused an instant black out in most men. But Charon was not most men. He growled in anger, and couldn't help but wonder how such a tiny thing could hurl a punch of that power.

In that second, Charcoal managed to wriggle out of his grip and shot like an arrow from a bow onto the top of the bar. Charon started to spin to face her, a fist curled up ready to strike. Charcoal leapt from the bar, landing on Charon's back and using her thighs to squeeze the sides of his neck and stop his head from turning. She threw the crook of her elbow over his eyes, attempting to blind him momentarily. It couldn't be long now.

She glared wide eyed in horror at Ahzruhkal, pleading for him to call the end of the fight. It couldn't be much longer, could it? _Snap_. Charcoal felt her shin bone break clean in half. She let out a piercing shriek of agony as she fell onto the floor. The excruciating pain snarled like wildfire through her nerves, her head started to shut down from the pain and she felt her stomach churn and her broken leg spasm, causing an electric shock of sheer torture to course through her muscles. Before she could register anything, Charon threw himself over her to keep her down. His legs either side of her, one hand pinning her down by the throat and the other raised with the hunting knife that smirked madly down at her. She crunched her eyes shut. But nothing happened.

The grip over her throat loosened until it just rested gently across her neck. Charon didn't get up, but knelt above her, his eyes still locked on her. But this time, they weren't glaring. They were blank again. Yet buried deep in the irises that reflected the colour of the ashes of a fire long dead, Charcoal thought she saw a spark of something else, before it dropped back to the grave.

Suddenly sound washed over her, and she heard some people screaming in rage, hoarse with the effort, and others cheering as they demanded their reward money. She even heard a few claps of high fives. Then she smelt the metallic tang of her own blood.

She felt the pain lull her out of consciousness before the searing agony cracked like a whip, making her jolt underneath Charon's weight back to reality. She suddenly realised that her eyes were stinging with the brine of scalding tears but they didn't run and instead pooled up in her gleaming eyes, her pupils swimming up at Charon who stared back. She heard an echoing laugh above the noise.

"Well what do you know, Smoothskin? You are of some use after all," Ahzruhkal barked, still standing on top of the bar his hands clamped against his waist, bent over to get a better look at her misery. The outcome wasn't what Ahzruhkal had planned, and yet he wasn't disappointed.

"Ahzruhkal, get your dog off of her!" Tulip hissed as she burst through the door, closely followed by Dr. Barrows and Nurse Graves who were carrying a year's supply of stimpacks, MED-X and a blood bag with tubes and an IVF.

"Charon, let your new _colleague_ get up...if she can."

The truth was, Charcoal wasn't getting up, instead she lay like a broken rag doll as Charon stepped off of her, ignoring the dagger that was still embedded in his forearm and the stain of blood that had begun to pool around the left side of his chest. Charcoal meanwhile, was marinating in an impressive pool of blood herself. It gushed from her deltoid muscle and wept from the open fracture of her shin bone. She began to shudder with convulsions.

Dr. Barrows shoved his way to where she was lying, Graves following. They collapsed to the ground at her side, and began working immediately.

"She's going into shock, Doctor,"

"Well observed, Nurse Graves. I knew I kept you around for some reason. Now do something useful and check if her ribs are damaged. If not, prop her up for me," He ordered as he punctured her arm in the crook of her elbow with the IVF and snarled at a nearby ghoul to hold the blood bag above them who was too scared to refuse.

Graves Unbuckled the belts that held on some of her Raider armor and tore off the leather armor jacket, revealing a flimsy, stained grey tank top that reached just above her hip bones that protruded a little bit more than what was healthy. She was even smaller than she suspected, but it didn't surprise her that a vault dweller would loose some weight out in the Wastes. She felt around her chest, and looked for blood around her mouth and nose that could indicate internal bleeding. Nothing. Once satisfied, she propped her up and Charcoal lolled onto Graves' shoulder, head reeling and thoughts tangling in her brain. She muttered inaudibly.

Barrows adjusted her top to get a better look at the stab wound. He wiped a moderately clean rag across it to wipe the blood away, making her shudder beneath his touch. He injected a stimpack into the flesh around it and it began to work immediately. Her wound began to slowly repair itself, the flesh knitting back together, the skin scabbing and eventually fading to a pleasingly clean white line of a scar. He nodded to graves who let Charcoal lie back down. Charcoal began coughing heavily, causing more pain to vibrate through her aching bones.

"Barrows?" She wheezed, reaching up to him as if to make sure he wasn't an apparition and squinting her eyes.

"_Doctor_ Barrows...yes it's me Smoothskin. You're going to be okay, I'll get that leg sorted for you but it's not going to be comfortable, okay? We're going to take you down to the Chop Shop, Graves and I are going to carry you and-"

"I'll help too," Winthrop called, nudging his way to her side through the remaining ghouls that weren't collecting wins or hadn't lost interest and skulked back the shadowy corners they'd crawled from.

"I don't like being interrupted, Winthrop," He sighed heavily, and turned his attention back to Charcoal.

"_Winthrop_, Graves and I are going to carry you, get you out of your armor and mend that leg. By the way there's a bulge in your leg, I'm guessing it's an open fracture."

Charcoal tried to speak but spluttered out a cough instead. She looked to the side of Graves and saw the pile of stimpacks. She reached out, and curled her pale, slender fingers around one and cringing held it out in the direction of Charon.

"He's...wounded...I'm-" She paused to jerk with a coughing fit. "-Sorry,"

Winthrop let out a nervous laugh, but quickly shut his mouth when no one else made a sound.

"You have to be joking, Charcoal. He just tried to kill you. _He_ did this to you!" Winthrop cried, looking backwards and forwards between her and Charon who stood motionless in his corner.

"No...Ahzruhkal.._.Ahzruhkal_ did this to me. Not him," She breathed out through gasps, and shook her hand in the direction of Charon again.

"Give this to him...please,"

Winthrop glared at Charon, and Charon looked to Ahzruhkal, who shrugged his shoulders.

"Charon, take it if it's free. You're no use to me when you're injured,"

Charon walked forward ignoring the glares of Winthrop, Graves and Barrows. He knelt down, and stared at the woman who squirmed a little, trying to find the least painful way to lie down. She tried a smile, but it turned into a grimace. He unsheathed the dagger from his arm with a light grunt, and replaced the stimpack in her hand with the bloodied knife. He slid the stimpack into a pocket in his black leather armor for later, and got up and stepped away from her.

Charon watched as Barrows, Graves and Winthrop carried her out. He gritted his teeth as he released a gush of air from his lungs, causing the puncture wounds in his side to pulse a wave of pain through him. He stalked back to his corner, and straightened his spine, returning to his directed look out point. Before she could be carried out, Ahzruhkal cleared his throat.

"Poor little broken Persophone. You asked me who I was, didn't you? Do you want know?"

Charcoal managed to tilt her head up to bore her glare into him, which planted a smug smile across his face.

"I am Hades and you are _mine_. "

...

Stick around guys, next chapter will be out next week. Whether you're a member of or not, I really appreciate reviews so you can give me feedback, ideas and generally just let me know how things are getting on. Thank you.


	3. Recovery

The bar emptied to its usual drunk patrons, the ones that seemed to have wasted so long rotting away in there that they'd become part of the aged furniture. Ahzruhkal chuckled to himself darkly from behind the bar, arms crossed comfortably over his chest which rose and fell with the laughter.

Charon glowered from his designated station, now fully healed from the gift of stimpaks, and had to restrain himself from creasing his nose in disgust as the chuckling grew when Ahzruhkal observed the amount of blood on the floor.

Charon knew he was a monster. But he also knew he wasn't a sick, twisted monster that did his dirty work through a puppet who can't resist and smirked like a callous sadist when he saw his plots bear fruit. Ahzruhkal let out a long sigh of contentment.

"Well, I didn't see this coming," Ahzruhkal sneered. Charon remained silent. Ahzruhkal paced over to him, a wide smile laid luxuriously across his face, his hands clasped behind his back.

"When was the last time you spoke to me, Charon?" Ahzruhkal asked and stood directly in front of him, and if it weren't for the lofty height difference, he would have been just inches away from his face. Charon snorted. The man never had a good sense of personal space.

"Approximately twenty minutes ago now. I said, I will do as you command."

"No. No, I mean_ really_ talk, and not just to me, to anyone."

"I do not recall," Charon answered honestly. Ahzruhkal barked out a laugh in his face, and Charon had to restrain himself from wincing as a stray drop of spit hit him in the eye. He had to stop himself from shuddering.

"Clean up the blood. I don't want a glimpse of it showing through. This place already has enough questionable stains."

"I am not your errand boy."

"Oh yes, that's right...you just stab people in the back."

"Only _literally_ Sir, never metaphorically," Charon held his head up and narrowed his eyes, pleased that the accusative tone had been noticed. Ahzruhkal smiled, and cocked his head to the side.

"Charon, if your new college ever attempts to run away...I order you to take your hunting knife and bury it in the back of her skull."

Charon blinked slowly.

"I will do as you order." He stated. Ahzruhkal flashed a smirk, turned on his heels and stalked away.

Charon felt a growl in the back of his throat. He remembered how the little woman's skin felt soft under his fingers, like lilies lining a dead man's wreath. Charcoal. He then remembered how her flesh gave way beneath the sharpened blade of his hunting Knife.

Charon couldn't lie to himself. He had learnt to enjoy killing. He relished in the thrill of the splutter of blood pumping out of a freshly slit throat and the satisfying noise his fist made when it collided with somebodies cheek bone. The sound of bones breaking, guts spilling and screams slashed short made him simply giddy with pleasure.

It hadn't always been like that, but Charon couldn't remember when he'd stopped being the one thing and became the other. One thing he knew for sure was that if you don't adapt in the Wasteland, you die in the Wasteland. He had nearly two centuries of experience to prove testament to_ that_. If he blamed himself for the death of every innocent who died at his hand he believed that one day, through no other reason at all, he would have simply just stopped breathing.

And yet, the sound of her agony didn't seem to strike the same flame in him that the screams of others did. He didn't know how he was going to react to having another person, a _smoothskin,_ following him around. Was he going to give her orders? Was she going to give _him_ orders? He wasn't sure.

He looked down to his bare forearm, the stringy red muscle beneath visible against what was left of his skin and in the middle, a new white line of a scar. He'd repaired his chest with his own personal stash of stimpaks, the one he hid from Ahzruhkal incase he sold them for some caps. He allowed himself to frown. She lay crippled and bleeding at his feet, by_ his _own hands, and she had told him she was _sorry_.

He muttered under his breath and swore. He wasn't sure whether to think her pathetic or some sort of Wasteland saint. He decided it was probably a bit of both, maybe leaning to the more pathetic attribute.

He suddenly felt a wave of anger rush through him. She'd _willingly_ got herself involved with Ahzruhkal. She had the choice to leave, run away, never come back and he was shackled to the callous bastard yet she had the freedom to leave and didn't. For the second time he found himself questioning her sanity. He let out a sigh.

.

Charcoal felt herself come round out of the blackness of unconsciousness. She'd passed out through pain before they even got her down stairs. She groaned, and propped herself up on her elbows, her arms still shaking a little. She looked down and saw she was wearing her grey tank top and some black underwear. She looked around for her armor or something to cover herself and swore aloud when she found nothing in the dark, empty hospital ward.

She looked down and observed a large, red mark on her leg where the bone had torn through her skin like paper. The stimpak had mended the bone, but her whole shin was stained with an ugly black and purple bruise that yellowed at the sides. She rubbed her aching shoulder and ran her hands down her legs letting out a deep sigh before straightening up and scowling.

The ward was empty. The ward was _never_ empty. Reiley, Graves and Barrows were nowhere to be found. Before she could slip off the bed, she felt something barrel into her chest, knocking the wind from her lungs and pinning her back down.

"If you scream, I'll order Charon to rip your lungs out," Ahzruhkal snickered down her ear, and she felt a cold blade of a knife press against her neck. She fought for breath and tried not to panic. Bad things happened when she panicked.

"We had a deal!" She spat, wriggling underneath his weight and meeting the harsh resistance of the blade that stung as it slit a thin layer of her skin.

Ahzruhkal let out a ringing giggle which echoed in the empty hospital ward and she glared up at him with wide eyed horror. _Where was everybody_?

"You never told me when the deal would officially start, Smoothskin. You're pretty new to giving orders, aren't you?" He pressed himself over her and breathed in her scent through his open mouth, arching his back before sinking back over her. Charcoal shuddered.

As he adjusted his knife she lashed out with her foot, and suppressed a scream as her freshly healing leg sent a tsunami of pain through her as it struck Ahzruhkal in the stomach. He snarled, and arrested both her wrists in one of his hands and pinned them down above her head. He started to chuckle and ran the knife slowly up the inside of her thigh. Her skin shivered beneath its sharpened point. He pressed his face into the curve of her neck, and smiled.

"They don't call you smoothskins for nothing," He purred as he took the knife back up to her throat, not leaving her body for a second. "Now, this might hurt a little bit..."

.

Charcoal screamed and flung herself out of the nightmare, lashing her hands out wildly. She continued screaming and slithered out from under the hands of a stranger, collapsing out of the dirty hospital bed with a painful thud.

"Easy Smoothskin, easy. You were having a bad dream, I got you," She heard Dr. Barrows say firmly as he rushed to her side. She heard the footsteps of Nurse Graves and she felt her heart rate relax. Barrows put his arms underneath her and lifted her up into his chest as he carried her back to the bed.

"And would you stop moving? That leg's still healing, I don't want you to screw up my good work. I've used up enough stimpaks on you before," He grumbled, placing her back down and lifting up her leg without warning so she fell onto her back and let out a tiny yelp of shock. He inspected it, and smiled.

"It should heal up perfect," He told her as he ran his eyes over the terrible blackened bruise. "You humans are so fragile."

Charcoal looked down at herself in frowned when she saw herself wearing what she had been in her nightmare.

"Where's my armor?" She croaked, looking around frantically for something to pull over herself.

"We're getting it repaired, you should be grateful," Barrows huffed. He watched the blood rush to her cheeks as she still looked nervously around her. He sighed heavily.

"I'm a doctor, Smoothskin. Seen it all before," He disappeared behind the surgical curtain and reappeared, throwing her an old white doctor's lab coat which still had a few peculiar discoloured stains on it. She thanked him and wrapped it round herself before chewing on her bottom lip.

"He hasn't been in my life for a single day and already he's haunting my fucking dreams," She hissed through gritted teeth. Barrows nodded, not needing to be told who.

"I would tell you he's all bark and no bite, but that's not necessarily true. Of course, it's not him who does the biting," He snorted, and shook his head.

"Now, I want to know what was running through that brain of yours when you decided to make a deal with Ahzruhkal. Did some rabid Supermutants knock your brain loose?"

"Me and Tulip told you to steer clear of him and to avoid the 9th circle all together," Graves interjected.

"I couldn't leave him." Charcoal replied flatly.

"Him? _Him_? You mean Charon?"

"Yes, Charon."

"But why? You've never even met him before now! You know nothing about him. Why would you risk your life like that for a complete stranger?" He stood exasperated, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I was able to help so I helped, alright? What sort of person would I be if I left him there?" She snapped, a little more harshly than she intended to.

"A sane person."

"You don't understand." She breathed, rubbing her tired eyes.

"You're right, I don't," He rolled his eyes, but it made sense to him that a young woman fresh out of a Vault would have morals like this. He took her leg in his hands again.

"Okay, make a figure of eight with your foot...yes...good...no pain? Good. We have to be sure that no tendons or nerves have been damaged or left unhealed by the stimpaks," he told her, placing her leg back down.

The double doors to the Chop shop flung open, and Charon stood scowling.

"I thought I told you years ago you were banned from stepping foot in here?" Barrows hissed as he stood in front of Charcoal. Charon scanned his eyes across the room until they landed on the small woman who sat huddled up in a lab coat.

"Ahzruhkal demands your presence," He said in a low growl without tearing his stare away from Charcoal. She flung her legs over the side of the bed, and moved to slip off, but was held back by Barrows who shook his head firmly.

"No. The patient is still recovering. From_ your_ attack. She stays here," Barrows stated, unflinching.

"I will drag her up there if it is necessary," Charon replied, a steely look in his eye which told him he wasn't bluffing. Barrows opened his mouth to argue, but Charcoal cut him off.

"It's okay, Doc, I've got to do it." She slid off the bed and was filled with relief when no pain came. She looked at Charon, and then back down at herself.

"I, er, I don't have any clothes at the moment," She stuttered. Charon blinked. A moment passed.

"Does it have to be right now?" She asked, a slightly whining tone laced across her words. Charon blinked again.

"Fine, fine, I'll come as I am," She sighed, irritated as she marched up to him, and nodded him to lead the way.

...

Okay, I suck. I'm really bad at schedules so there isn't going to be a definite update day. Chapters will be uploaded whenever but there will never be more than a week between updates. Thanks for sticking with it guys and thanks for the follows. A special thanks to MistressMira and a Guest Z for the reviews, I really appreciate them. To Guest, your review really made me grin like an idiot and I'm glad I've not made the Lone wanderer too annoying, thanks for the feedback!


	4. My ugly, beautiful world

They found Ahzruhkal in the back room of the 9th Circle lying on his bed, throwing and catching a dirty baseball. Charon stood to attention, head held high and back straight, as instructed. Charcoal glowered at Ahzruhkal through narrowed eyes, slouched and looking worse for wear. Ahzruhkal continued throwing the ball into the air and catching it in cupped hands periodically, making Charcoal flinch with irritation every time the ball landed with a soft clap into his palms. He didn't even look up.

"What?" Charcoal eventually hissed, making Ahzruhkal glance lazily at her. A serpent's grin flicked on his lips.

"I have a little proposition for you."

"I thought we were done with making deals, Ahzruhkal."

"Yes, we are. Proposition is a bad word to use, I apologize. It makes it sound like you actually have a choice," He scoffed, and resumed throwing the ball. Charcoal envisioned herself tearing it out of mid air and jamming it down his windpipe. The fantasy only made the reality a little bit more bearable.

"What are my orders?" She half growled, half sung the last word. Ahzruhkal let the ball drop to his lap and sat up, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, propping his chin up with his hands.

"That's more like it, Smoothskin. I've managed to trace down an...an old friend. He's a ghoul who goes by the name of Fairgrieve. I assure you, he is not a good person. Probably makes Satan himself hang his head in shame. Which is why you must kill him pretty quickly,"

"Why?"

"Because he's fucking good with a minigun."

"No, I meant why do you want Fairgrieve dead?"

"Asking questions is not your job, it's mine. Never you mind why I want him dead, I just do._ Ours is not to reason why, ours is but to do an di_e, after all. And if you don't do it, Charon here won't be so slow when trying to kill you." Charcoal's eyelid twitched involuntarily and Ahzruhkal's smile slithered over his face.

"There is, however, one problem."

"Which is?"

"I've only pin pointed where someone is who knows where he's hiding. An old friend of Mister Crowley's, Dukov. I think you've heard of him?" Charcoal pursed her lips. Mister Crowley was a bitter, angry, and undeniably depressed ghoul who'd only changed about a decade ago and had, after only a few conversations, asked her to murder Dukov as well as Tenpenny and others whom he deemed worthy of death and collect their keys. Despite his homicidal tendencies, Charcoal felt bad for him and often found herself wondering what kind of a man he was like prior to ghoulification when the stream of her thoughts ran dry.

"He'll tell you where he is."

"What makes you so sure?"

"People talk when they have two guns aimed at their head."

"Ahzruhkal, Dukov is known for being a gunslinger. I can't ensure that I...we...will get the information before we're forced to kill him," Charon felt uncomfortable using the term "we." It felt foreign on his tongue and left a strange after taste. Ahzruhkal's eyes traced the delicate line of Charcoal's body up and down, running a tongue over his chapped lips and finally rested his eyes on hers.

"Then she can use her feminine charms," He laughed and Charcoal creased her nose at him.

"When do you request we leave?" She said through gritted teeth, concentrating too hard on not punching the smirking bastard in the face to move her jaw when spoke.

"As soon as possible. In the next hour..."

"The next hour? I can't do that! I've got to get my armor back first! If it hasn't escaped your notice, it's not on me at the moment," She remarked.

"Oh trust me, it hasn't escaped my notice," He chuckled darkly and lay back on the bed. "Fine. As soon as you get your armor back, leave with Charon. And you _will_ get your armor back in the next twenty four hours and so leave in the next twenty four hours," He commanded, a threat woven into his words, and waved his hand towards the door.

Charon nodded curtly and slunk out of the room, Charcoal following behind him, grumbling to herself.

.

When they left Underworld, Charcoal let a deep, growling sigh quiver out of her lips.

"He is such a _dick_," She snarled, as Charon walked slightly ahead of her. Charon grumbled an agreement but never articulated his thoughts.

Charon didn't like this. He was better off alone. All he'd do is run after her and stop her getting them both killed. He liked being on his own...or at least he convinced himself he was better off that way. He felt his thoughts grind to a sudden halt. Did he actually like being on his own? Or had that just became what was comfortable because he'd been forced into it by the institution and the contract? He couldn't recall the last time he'd truly enjoyed someone's company without the other person being shredded to a bloody mess by his bullets or was having their face pummeled by his fists.

"Oh, hey, hang on a second," She called as she ran from his side. Charon rolled his eyes. _And so it begins_. Charcoal ran up to a blackened tree and, giggling, hugged it. Charon frowned. He'd been landed with a nutcase after all. She ran her palms over its blackened bark, and then using her fingers painted the black soot onto her eyelids and cheeks. She let out a satisfied purr and ran back to Charon, who kept his mask free of emotions.

"You don't know how bad it is to get sunburn, man. Seriously, by the time I'd found Megaton I looked like I had no skin left," She faltered at the end of the sentence. Poor choice of words.

"Sorry," She stuttered and nodded ahead of her. "Shall we then?" She smiled awkwardly, and set off in front of him cringing at her own stupidity, and whispering to herself how much of an idiot she was, thinking he couldn't hear her.

Charon, having long since came to terms with his affliction, actually found the way she stumbled over her words in panic amusing. Perhaps he could feign offence and watch in satisfaction as she flapped and stuttered. He caught up to her, his long strides out pacing her so she had to move her small legs twice as fast just to keep at the same speed. She was nearly jogging.

"Er, you didn't take offence to that, did you? I mean, I'm sorry if I speak to much it's just that-well, erm," She trailed off and looked up cautiously at him, looking like a kicked puppy. Charon snorted in response.

He couldn't understand why she cared so much in the first place, nobody else did. In fact, why _did_ she care? The only reason she was here was because she wanted to get his contract and nearly die in the process, or as she said, "free" him. Indeed any other employer besides Ahzruhkal would be at least some sort of freedom, but what were her motives? Why was she doing this? Charon was determined to root out the reasons for her lies.

Charon had grown particularly exemplary at reading other people, which is why he was so good at hiding emotion. The institution had hammered into him emotion was weakness, and so Charon had become a walking biological light switch. Emotion on, emotion off. On, off. As easy as blinking. The only other thing he found more fun than killing was puzzle solving, and he was determined to figure out this strange woman.

"Sorry, my name is Charcoal, by the-"

"What is your real name?" He demanded in his low voice.

"People out here call me Charcoal," She smiled, though it was slightly crooked, and pointed to the black stains on her face. Charon only stared unblinking.

"If I tell you, you'll start calling me it then everyone will. I like being anonymous," She sighed, ruffling her tied back hair which made a loose strand curl like a winding staircase down the side of her face. He continued to stare, his eyes unmoving.

"Okay, fine. Just...do not tell anyone. My name's Viola," She mumbled tightening her grip on her combat shotgun. Charon rose an eyebrow, and before he could register it, a memory bubbled to the surface of his mind.

"Come away, come away, Death, And in sad cypress let me be laid; Fly away, fly away, breath, I am slain by a fair cruel maid."

Charcoal's mouth fell open.

"What?" She said, her voice barely audible. Charon shrugged. It was a long shot anyway that this silly girl knew anything about the origins of her name. He continued walking, taking a mental note to keep a better hold on his memories of before the war.

"Hey, no wait a minute, what was that?" She smiled, bemused and happy she'd encouraged him to speak.

"You wouldn't know it."

"Come on! Tell me! Tell me what was that! Was it from a song, a poem or something else?" She said eagerly. Charon ignored her, and looked into the horizon filled with even more buildings destroyed by the nuclear bomb he in his youth had feared and that time gnawed on over the centuries.

She continued pestering him, and once again Charon felt a spark of mild amusement flicker in his chest, though no evidence of it was shown on his face.

"It was beautiful. Come on I just want to know," She reached out her hand laid it on his arm. Before it could rest there properly, Charon seized her wrist in his mechanical grip and flung it back to her chest. She winced and stared up at him in shock. No anger, no agitation or fear, just shock. Charon swallowed hard. Old habits die hard. Charon had rooted himself to the ground, and glared wide eyed at her. The thought of apologizing crossed his mind, but he dispelled it before it had time to flourish. It wasn't his fault whenever something tried to touch him in the Wastes, it was trying to kill him.

"Sorry, I'm a bit handsy," She laughed uneasily.

"Come on Smoothskin," He shrugged and nodded. Charcoal followed after him and started to speak.

"I wanted to ask you something, by the way. I was wondering-"

"Get down!" Charon snarled and barrelled to the floor behind some sand bags crowned with barbed wire, dragging Charcoal down with him who landed awkwardly on her arm.

"What the hell was that for!" She hissed in pain, and she was answered by a stuttering minigun fire and the yells of Raiders. Well shit.

"Stay down, I've got this," Charon grumbled. Killing raiders may as well have been classed as an official hobby in the Wastelands. Fun for the entire family. He pulled out his shotgun and leapt over the makeshift parapet.

"You want some of this? Come on then!" He roared, firing two shots with perfect aim, decapitating two Raiders including the one that was far too trigger happy with his minigun. He spun behind the remains of a brick wall taking cover, the rush of the kill boiling the blood in his veins. He heard a woman swear and a man yell at her.

"Did you see the size of that bastard?" The woman's voice hissed, and Charon grinned. He heard another yell and more firing. Before he could poke his head around the brick wall to see what was happening, Viola skidded through the dirt and stopped just short of crashing into him.

"I thought I told you to stay where you were?" He spat angrily.

"It wasn't fun where I was," She complained, pulling a childish pout. She leaned around the broken brick wall and fired a few shots. Charon winced.

"You're firing it wrong."

"What?"

"I said you're firing it wrong!" He yelled over the noise of more screams off Raiders coming in as back up.

"It's shooting bullets isn't it?" She growled, ducking as she heard something crash on the other side of the wall/

"The butt is meant to go into that bit," He jabbed her just below her collarbone, "not into your actual fucking shoulder!"

"I'm new to this okay!" She whined, "I've only just started using a shotgun!"

"How quick are you at loading the cartridge chambers?" He asked. Viola's face was blank.

"It's the-for fucks sake. Hang on," Charon stood and pinpointed three more Raiders off, one through the skull, the other through his throat and the final one through the center of his chest. He dropped and knelt back down.

"It's the place you load the gun, where you put the shells," Charon scowled. Why was he even bothering to ask? He snorted. It was better than having her kill both of them because of her shitty shotgun and her shitty shotgun skills.

"If I wasn't quick I'd be dead," She flashed a smile, and threw herself on the floor and swung the barrel of the shotgun over the side of the wall, letting four shots off. The first two missed, the third hit a Raider in the lung, causing him to spit up a fountain of blood which splattered on the floor in front of him, and the last bullet drilled through a raider's shin bone, crippling his left leg and conjuring a sickening howl of agony. She let out a cry of triumph, shuffled back behind cover and, sitting back up, beamed at Charon who suppressed a smile.

"Better." Charon growled and pulled out a frag grenade and threw it over the top, without even having to look where he was throwing. He heard screams, a blast and then silence. He peaked over the top, and straightened himself up. Viola also stood up and surveyed the Raider camp painted with the deep shade of blood and burnt black. Her eyes brightened up. She let out a gleeful squeak and Charon stared at her in confusion. She shuffled quickly past him up to the remains of the corpses and began scavenging. As she crouched huddled over, picking through the blood and guts, she looked rather like an odd, featherless vulture.

"Ooooh, pretty gloves!" She chirped and began peeling back the grey leather gloves that had spikes imbedded into the knuckles off of still warm dead hands. She tried them on and flexed her fingers, admiring them from different angles by gently turning her wrists.

"How do I look?" She smirked, wriggling her fingers at Charon who decided to not grace her with an answer. He rolled his eyes, and strode over to her, and pulled out the ammo from the dead raider's pockets.

"This is what we are looking for," He said, holding shells up in front of her face. She batted his hand out of the way and rolled her eyes.

"I'm not an idiot. I'd be dead if I didn't know that." Charon sniffed and got up and continued to raid the corpses. He walked up to a male raider with an electric blue mohawk and crouched down. He ran his thumb over the small, neat entry bullet wound that lay perfectly between his eyes. Nothing made him feel better than the perfect shot. Then he looked at the back of his head that was no longer there. The skull cracked open like a nut and its contents emptied.

Suddenly a thought began to surface. Nothing ever was as what it seemed. With a start he realised she enjoyed killing. Nearly as much as him or so it appeared. So why was she trying so desperately hard to act as a martyr for his freedom when she merrily skipped into battle blowing the brains out of raider's skulls? He looked at the rest of the corpses, tossed up like flotsam and spread about like broken shards of waste wood. Who was this woman and why was she trying so damned hard to get his contract?

"You okay there, big guy?" She asked, her head at an angle and concern written on her face. Charon mentally cursed himself. It'd been a long time since he let slip of his inner emotions and let them show on his face. He grunted. Viola frowned.

"Listen," She began, getting up and standing in front of him, hands clasping her hips.

"I want to know what's wrong. I mean, if you're always like this, then fair enough but...you're acting like you want to ask me something. I don't bite Charon, if you want to ask, ask. I'm an open book. I even told you my real name, didn't I?" She looked serious, but she smiled warmly at him. Reassuring. Charon let out a rattling sigh. Well, she asked for it, and there was no harm in asking out right.

"I am curious as to why you want my contract so badly."

"There are a few reasons."

"Tell me."

"I hate slavers, I hate Ahzrukal and I hate what he does to you. What he makes you do for him...it just _sickens_ me. Ever since I got out of this vault, all I've seen is people treating each other like shit and...and..." She began stuttering, and then took a moment to compose herself.

"I made a decision. A moral code, if you will. I decided if I was able to help, I would help. When I saw you...when I saw _him_...I just had to do something. If I didn't...then I'd be as bad as every other fucker out here." She looked down at her feet. When Charon didn't answer, she continued.

"And...I'm scared," She whispered it, as if she were embarressed that people could her, and her white face coloured with the rush of blood. Charon frowned in miscomprehension.

"Of what, Smoothskin? You took out those Raiders...probably could have done it on your own too." _Probably_.

"Of being on my own."

"What?"

"When I got out of the Vault," She said slowly. "The sight of the sun petrified me. Seriously, I collapsed to the floor and screamed. I didn't even know what it was. Well, the books I read in the vaults told be about what it was but...it was so bright and strange and it hurt my eyes and I later on found out it hurt my skin. Everything terrified me. I'd never been out in the open, and I'd never been further than a short walk away from another person. Then suddenly I was flung into this world I never even knew existed and it was so large and I was so small and all alone and anyone I did meet tried to kill me on sight, "She laughed, and continued.

"Then I found Megaton. Tried to convince some people to travel with me, hell I'm a coward but I didn't want to spend the rest of my days hiding. The world's scary, but it's beautiful too, in its own little way...you know? So as yet I haven't found someone to share in an adventure. I didn't want to tell you this so early on when you can easily label me as some weak, cowardly psycho chick who needs supervision...but I thought that you might want to be my companion...stupid I know. I hope I can be at least a little better company than Ahzruhkal." She finished with a deep gulp of air and refused to meet his eye.

Charon was at a loss for words. It turns out he was right. She was mental. But in a strange, kind of fucked up way, he enjoyed the idea that she wanted him around for a reason other than using him as a weapon. A ghoul too. At best smoothskins were polite to ghouls, even figured out a way not to wince if one touched them, but never in all his years had a smoothskin wanted a ghoul companion, not since Herbert 'Daring' Dashwood and Argyle at least. The thought nearly made him laugh in her face. At least she'd been honest, but he couldn't help feeling a little disappointed that the puzzle had unraveled itself before he had a chance to.

"You should have seen it before the bombs fell." He told her.

"Sorry?"

"You said the world was beautiful. You should have seen it before the bombs fell." Viola lifted her head to face his, and a grin splashed itself across her face. She shook away her nervousness, and gave him a wink.

"Let's go, Big fella."

...

-So chaps, are there any literary enthusiasts amongst you who know what play and who it was written by where Viola's name comes from? If you do, you'll also probably understand why I chose the name. If not, you're just going to have to find out when Viola does! Also the name Ozymandias has been chosen for a specific reason that _will_ be made clear, trust me. I hope the whole Charcoal/Viola thing isn't as confusing as it might come across DX

-I seriously can't thank people enough for keeping coming back to read this, and I'm over the moon with the reviews, you guys are awesome and I give you all virtual hugs. To** Guest Z**, I'm so happy you think I've got the characters of Charon and Ahzruhkal right, it's great to hear I'm doing okay and your reviews are always so flattering and make me grin ear to ear! It'll be great to have you on Fanfiction when you get an account.

To **MistressMira** and **Drunken-lullabies**, I completely agree with you about Charon's character, he has been brainwashed, been used and treated as a weapon and a tool rather than a human, so he's not going to be all fun and games at first not to mention a little socially inept through lack of friendly communication. Drunken-lullabies, you will find out why she's good at fighting in the next chapter, promise!

**Jenivere **your virtual cookies were delicious, and thank you so much for the review, glad you like how I've written Ahzruhkals character!

**Missmagnificent** I can't stress how pleased I am with your review, I do tend to go into a lot of description which can be quite off putting for some, so it was worrying me a little and so I'm happy someone is enjoying it! I'll try to steer clear of the purple prose though!

**Codus** I'm very grateful for the favourite and review, hope you stick around.


	5. Downpour

"We've been walking forever now Charon...have you got us lost?" Viola whined as she rubbed her face with her fingers, trying to shake away the fatigue that was draining her limbs and muscles.

"No," Charon groaned for the seventh time in the last hour.

"But you do know where we're going right?"

"Right."

"How much longer, Big guy? The suns been down for a while and it's getting hard to see. I can't fire at anything if I can't see."

"You humans and your afflictions..._I_ can see. That's what matters," He replied turning his head to look at Viola who was lagging behind him.

She looked drawn and her eyes were squinting and her pupils had grown so large nearly no glimpse of her iris shone through. Charon couldn't deny it, she did look tired.

"Hey...hey what's that?" She asked, pointing out the clouds in the sky. Charon frowned, she knew what they were, but when he looked harder, he saw a flash of white light in the distance. After a moment flew by, a loud crack of thunder boomed through the buildings on the outskirts of the city. Viola let out a yelp and flung herself to the ground.

"Charon get down!" She yelled, scrambling for cover. "What the hell is that!?"

"Calm down, Smoothskin, it's thunder."

"What?" She panted, eyes darting around like a startled rabbit and heart hammering twice as fast. Charon walked over to her, and gave her a nudge in the ribs with his boot to urge her up off the floor. Then his face dropped. Thunder meant rain, and rain meant acid rain with an extra dose of radiation. He looked up and heard the distant hammer of water colliding with the pavement, growing closer.

"Get up! Get up now!" He growled and lunged down, seizing her arm in his grip and tugging her into running towards cover and away from the river side.

"What? Why?" She gasped after him.

"It's rain!" He snarled, angry that she couldn't run nearly as fast as him.

"I've read about that! It's meant to be harmless, what's wrong?" she asked, but dared not slow down.

"_Acid_ rain. Not only is it radioactive, but it'll burn the skin right off your flesh," he hissed. She wasn't moving fast enough and Charon didn't fancy watching her skin bubble and melt off. He rolled his eyes and stopped. Viola ran straight into him and Charon lifted her up off her feet and flung her over his shoulder, Viola letting out a startled squeak as his hard shoulder dug into her stomach. He sprinted towards a wall of corrugated iron that jutted out from the ground. The buildings of the city were roughly about five seconds away, but they were five seconds they didn't have.

He slid down underneath it, taking Viola with him. He dumped her roughly on the ground and made sure she was out of the rain. Just as she was, the rain hammered down, and a slight fizzing noise was heard as it drenched softer materials other than brick and iron. Viola was catching her breath besides him, and suddenly Charon wondered if she'd been okay with him manhandling her like that. But the look on her face banished all thought of that.

Tiredness washed away, her eyes widened in wonder, mouth agape as she watched the droplets that had a slight eery green glow hammer down into the ground. She seemed to try and create a sound, but only her lips managed to trace the word "beautiful." She looked at him to see his reaction and to his shock slapped him on the back.

"Look at it! God, just look at it!" She nearly broke into laughter and she held her hands over her mouth. Charon just watched her, amazed at her expression.

"I guess no ones going to be out shooting each other in this!" She beamed. Charon grumbled.

"Ghouls are quite resilient and Supermutants even more so. It's actually good weather for killing if you're one of those," He said in his throaty voice. He felt something in his stomach shift as he saw the look of awe fall from her face.

"Oh," She breathed, and looked down. Suddenly her head snapped up.

"Hey, Big guy, do you mind, er..." She started to say, trying to contain her smile.

Charon hated to admit it, but he rather liked his nickname. He'd never had one before, or at least one that was mildly positive, and if anyone mentioned his size it was usually in disdain or fear. He figured it was because the name suggested he was an actual person rather than a tool. He couldn't even begin to remember when he was ever referred to in a way in which didn't insinuate he was an object.

"Er...put your hand out in it? Like, if it doesn't hurt you that is," She finished stumbling.

"I'm a ghoul, irradiated water heals me and my skin's pretty tough." He replied shortly, but didn't move.

Viola stared at him expectantly, rocking a little on her crossed legs. She hesitated, bit her lip, looked cautiously at his face then took his fore arm in her hands. Charon gritted his teeth and glared at her, but didn't move. She smiled nervously and held his hand out in the rain for a few moments before pulling it in and laughing softly at the way it continued to glow on his hand before fading to nothing.

Charon questioned why he was putting up with her, and fought the urge to roll his eyes before snatching his arm away and wiping his hand on his mercenary armor.

"Sorry, I just want to touch it so bad," She sighed blinking slowly, fidgeting as she fought the urge to try and put her hand out in the falling rain, at least for a fraction of a second.

"You should sleep. Dukov's is up the road. The rain should have passed by then," He said, crossing his arms over his wide chest.

"Okay...what about you?" She asked, moving further into the iron shelter and getting ready to curl up. Charon snorted.

"I don't sleep."

"What, like ever?"

"Like ever."

"Why? You can't or you don't or..."

"I don't."

"But you can?"

"Yes."

"So why don't you?" She asked as she looked out over the wet city that took on a strange dull shine in the rain.

"Ahzruhkal says it wastes time...especially when sleep for me is a luxury and not a necessity."

"Is that a ghoul thing?" She said in shock. She'd known ghouls to have strange ailments, but a severe case of controlled insomnia wasn't one of them.

"No. A me thing. The-" He stopped and shut his mouth, clenching his teeth together. He didn't like how she was making him lose control over what he said, even if he managed to stop himself before mentioning the institution. Viola could tell he wasn't going to say more on the subject, at least not for now. So she nodded, content.

"That's actually really cool," She said as she cringed letting her hair down and curling up onto her side and rested her head on her hands. Charon mumbled something, and Viola plunged into sleep before her eyes had even completely shut. Charon drew the shotgun off his back and lay it in his lap, tapping the trigger to the rhythm of 'Butcher Pete.'

...

An hour had passed and the rain seemed relentless. He was amazed the girl could sleep with the racket it was making on the corrugated iron. He hadn't seen anything for that hour, and he felt his muscles ache to move as he slouched awkwardly so he could fit under. He heard Viola stir in her sleep. She mumbled and frowned, and unconsciously shuffled closer to him for warmth. He flinched as she wriggled her arm underneath his thigh and rested her head on his lap sighing.

"Smoothskin...Smoothskin wake up," He growled, shaking his leg to try and wake her. Viola moaned and buried her face into his leg.

"No Dad...I'm not taking the G.O.A.T...no" She hummed and settled again, and Charon stared on with a look of exasperation.

"Smoothskin, I'm not asking again," Charon threatened, but Viola had already passed on over the edge of consciousness. He shook his leg again, but Viola only mumbled and clung tighter to him.

He gave up and used her shoulder as a gun rest, sighing heavily. He looked down at her. Her untied blonde hair fell about her shoulders like an oversized halo and there was only a small slither of her face showing which was now a stoic as he could keep his. Charon could have almost laughed.

Since his ghoulification, female smoothskins would shudder away from even just looking at him, but now he had one stuck to him as if he had a magnet in him. The rain eventually began to stop, but the acrid stench of acid burnt what was left of his nostrils.

A little later, the sun rose and it was time to get moving again. He went to wake her up, but before he did, he saw Viola wincing in her sleep. When had she started doing that? She began to whimper, and shake her head.

"No...oh God don't do this..." She croaked, and began to squirm uncomfortabley. Charon couldn't decide whether he wanted to find out who she was talking to in her dream or put her out of her misery.

"Don't leave me like this...they're coming to get me...help me...why won't you help me?" She began choking and Charon decided he'd had enough.

"Hey...hey, Smoothskin. It's just a dream," He shook his leg and pulled her roughly up into sitting position. She yelped in shock as she was flung out of her dream and flung her fist out in an effort to punch him. Charon easily grabbed her fist and pushed her away harshly onto her back, making her head hit the floor a little too sharply. He winced.

"Stop touching me when I don't expect it," He hissed. Lashing out when something tried to touch him was just as natural as any reflex after spending so long in the wastes isolated from friendly human interaction. She rubbed the back of her head and stared up at him.

"Okay, okay, Jesus," She whined rubbing her eyes with balled up fists. "Morning already?" She asked, her voice still trimmed with sleepiness.

Charon grunted and unravelled himself from underneath the corrugated iron, groaning as he stretched out his limbs that threatened to cramp after being held in one position for too long. He shook himself out. Viola also shuffled out and allowed herself to have a long, luxurious felinesque stretch.

"Awh man, I haven't slept that well since Three Dog," She purred and Charon felt himself grimace.

"I don't want to know, Smoothskin" Viola's face dropped. She began to stutter again.

"Oh...God, no n-no, you've got it wrong I mean...what I meant was that he lets me sleep in his bed and he...no you're getting the wrong idea we don't-"

"We don't what?" He had to rein in a smile that threatened to show on his cracked lips.

"Well you know. He's not there when I sleep is what I mean. No, that'd be just creepy. Yeah what I meant is that I don't sleep well unless there's someone around on lookout with a huge motherfucking gun, and those brotherhood soldiers fit the bill" She laughed, her face painted red.

Charon just shrugged his wide shoulders and holstered his shotgun on his back. "We should get going then," She laughed nervously and slunk past him, still too embarrassed to look him in the face. Charon grumbled an agreement and began to follow her.

"You know where you're going, Smoothskin?" He called out to her folding his arms. She stopped dead in her tracks and another one of her nervous laughters that sounded like bells filled the air.

"Er, no. Lead on," She grinned awkwardly and following him in the opposite direction of which she had been going.

"You going to tell me what that was about?" He found himself asking as he walked back the riverside and kept heading south. It was the first time he'd asked her a proper question. At least a question that could be considered intimate. He hadn't asked a question like that in well over a century, and he felt like a foreigner in this field of conversation. As he waited for an answer he wondered if talking with another person who treated him as an equal would ever feel right again.

"What?"

"That. You were having a nightmare."

"I was?" She said a skeptical frown drawn across her face. Charon grunted a reply.

"I don't remember...how did you know?"

"You were wriggling about and asking someone not to leave you."

"Oh." She rubbed the back of her neck and ran her fingers through her greasy hair, untangling it so she could throw it up in a messy bun. She hated not showering. When Charon didn't press for answers, she spoke again.

"I'm not just wandering around out here for pleasure, you know. I...I'm looking for my Dad," Charon tore his stare from the road ahead to glance at her and then look back.

"It's why I left the vault. He didn't even tell me. He just left. Hell I had to be told by fucking Amata he'd gone," She growled in frustration and Charon cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Amata...well she was pretty much my only friend in the vault. I know it's hard to believe but I wasn't exactly popular with the other kids," She laughed and sighed heavily.

"Actually, I was really unpopular. I use to get into fights everyday. Even on my birthday Butch decided he'd have a swing at me. That's why I'm not too bad at fighting now. A mix of experience and my Dad. He used to spend hours with me teaching me how to fight." She grinned and shook her head.

"Looking back, I should have known he was too good at fighting to be just a doctor who spent his whole life in the vault. I guess you think I'm a little naive, huh? Of course he discouraged me from violence, said I should always run if I was able and to never ever be the instigator. It was a last option kind of thing. It's one of my best memories of Dad, the way he would jokingly mock me for getting by balance wrong or not anticipating one of his fake punches. You know, he taught me that I shouldn't be ashamed if someone told me I fight like a girl, something Butch and his band use to slur at me as an insult, and that it was an honour to be able to fight with the passion and fury of a woman," She laughed and then her face turned sour.

"Amata was the daughter of the 'Overseer.' Prick," She spat with disdain. "It's a miracle his daughter wasn't a complete douchebag too, but then again, he did have the guards beat her up a few times if she didn't do as he said. Can't imagine anyone, blood relative or not, to like someone after they treat you so badly. But yeah, my Dad left me to rot in that ditch and now I'm trying to find him."

"Why?" Charon questioned, not understanding how she felt the need to find the man who abandoned her. She said it herself, there was no reason to feel emotionally attached to someone if they treat you like shit, father or not.

"What do you mean why? He's my father. I love him. I know he wouldn't have left without a good reason, but what hurts is that he didn't tell me. Sure you could argue that he was trying to protect me but he should know me better than to think I would have been okay with him just disappearing like that. Besides, I don't think even he realised how the Overseer was going to react. My own neighbors tried to kill me, Charon. That shit's not fun."

Viola felt the cobbled road give beneath her feet and before she could let out a cry she tumbled down from the ledge and rolled down a steep verge that lead to the irradiated river. She felt herself hit the water and plunged deep beneath its surface, feeling herself go ridged under its cold embrace, and more shocking the feeling of stinging biting into her skin.

She broke the surface swearing as her hair came undone and the fastener disappeared beneath the water.

"Shit," She hissed as she swam to the ledge, trying to ignore the burning sensation that clawed at her.

She looked back up to the road to try and see what Charon was doing, but she couldn't see him. She hauled herself out of the water, panicing over her shotgun and begging that it was not beyond repair.

"Charon!" She yelled out for him. No answer came. She hissed and began to disassemble her shotgun, muttering curses under her breath. She then heard scuttling.

Her head shot up, but nothing was there. She began to breathe heavily and put her gun back together after doing nothing of value to see if it was working. She loaded it with trembling fingers and nearly dropped the shells a couple of times. She held it the way Charon had taught her and got to her feet.

The scuttling noise came again and was this time accompanied by a creature that made Viola's jaw drop in horror and the blood rush out of her face. The isopodic creature let out a shrill shriek and began snapping it's mutated claws in her direction, it's heavily armored dirty grey skeleton clicking repulsively.

Viola didn't scream, and pulled on her trigger ferociously, but nothing happened.

She didn't know whether her face was wet from the river or from sweat as she stood motionless and horror stricken. What the hell was that? It scuttled towards her, it's tiny crustacean head nearly at the top of its massive torso facing her. She backed up and tripped over a piece of brick that had been dislodged that caused her to fall down.

She hit the floor and rolled back up, holding the shotgun by its barrel, waiting to hammer the stock at it if it came any closer...and it did. She let out a howl of anguish as she slammed the butt of the gun into its face, which only made it hesitate for a moment before lunging at her with its bone crushing pincers.

"Charon!" She screamed, scurrying back up the bank hissing in panic as the bank started to crumble away beneath her feet. She slipped again and as she did she swung her shot gun round again, this time managing to bat away the colossal claw that was aiming for her legs.

She rolled away from it and back down the bank towards the river and hit her head painfully on a jutted out rock. It sprinted towards her, and Viola resigned herself. She crunched up into a ball, flinging down her weapon and feebly covering her head with her arms.

She heard gunshots and a harrowing screech of agony rung in her ears. She heard heavy footfalls leading away from her, and two more shots.

"Yeah, you like that ya bastard!?" She heard Charon's voice and her whole being seemed to relax and suddenly she felt like she was going to be sick.

Another round of ammo later and the animal barrelled down the bank after trying to get towards its attacker. The corpse landed at her feet, pussing out black blood through the cracked outer shell of its skeleton.

Viola wretched and had to cover her mouth with her hands, that sickening sour stench of its body clawed its way up her nose. She quickly grabbed her shotgun off the floor and scrambled up the ledge as quickly as she could and flung herself onto the road, panting heavily as her brain pulsed in her skull, feeling like it had swollen twice its regular size and now threatened to split her head in half.

She lay there on the floor for what felt like an eternity and managed to look up. Charon was making his way towards her, something clasped in his hands. She lifted herself from the floor but remained sitting. Charon flung what he had in his left hand at her feet. It was the decapated head, or rather the face, of the creature that he'd pulled out from under its curved armored hood.

"I apologise,I took a while to get down there. I should have remembered this place is a breeding ground for Mirelurks," He kicked the head closer to her and she felt her stomach turn as she shuffled frantically back from it.

"Mirelurk?" She choked, her voice no louder than a whisper in case it broke. Charon gave her a nod.

"The meats good for you. Tastes like shit though." Viola gestured to the head.

"Thanks for the gift," She tried to laugh, but wheezed instead.

"You okay, Smoothskin?"

"Yeah...yeah I guess so..." She sighed, and got to her feet, a little off balance. Charon flicked his right hand out, and a massive claw clunked as it hit the stone.

"You really know how to please a woman, don't you Charon?" This time she managed to laugh and Charon growled.

He knelt down and pulled out his hunting knife which made Viola wince at the memory of it embedded into her back. He hollowed the claw of the tender meat slopped with the thick black blood beneath the iron armor of the claw. He leant forward and unbuckled a spare belt she had around her waist. Viola watched him carefully, eyes narrowed.

"What are you-" She started, watching as he made two slits after much force with his knife and fed the black leather belt through the holes. He shoved it down onto her bare shoulder, the one that wasn't covered by the spiked raider armor and buckled it onto her, pleased that it fit snugly. He buckled it up for her and stepped away, surveying his handiwork.

"What's this for?" She smiled, still a little shaky as she cast her gaze over the impressive plate of Mirelurk armor. Charon dipped three of his fingers into the blackened congealing blood and wiped them across the hallowed out claw, and stood back.

"Mirelurks hate the smell of their own blood, keeps them away," He explained, wiping the remains of blood off his hands and onto his leg.

"Thanks Big guy," She said as she got up, Charon nodded, and started to walk away.

"No, really I mean it. Thank you," She jogged up to his side and smiled up at him. Charon nodded an acknowledgement and tried to remember the last time someone had said thank you to him, when he couldn't recall, he continued at a quickened pace.

...

I am so so so sorry I haven't uploaded anything in a while, the sun's came out in the UK and, if you don't live here, that's pretty much as rare as seeing a flying unicorn. So lots of things have been happening and I've been busy. I promise it won't happen again.

Fun/not so fun fact, Charon doesn't sleep. Yup, that's right, if you buy the Game of the year edition book, it'll tell you in the chapter of followers that Charon actually doesn't sleep. Whether that's _can't_ sleep or just _chooses_ not to sleep is a totally different matter. I always wondered about the effects of nuclear war on the planet, and since this is a few centuries after the bombs dropped, it makes sense that they aren't standing in the middle of an atomic winter. However I still wondered what effect, if any, it'd have on the hydrologic cycle, and so in my mind, I think this is what rain, when it falls, would be like.

Special thanks to **Kira Kyuu**, **Yaoi Kitten**, **Guest Z **and **Jenivere **for all your reviews, I love reading them so much, they never fail to cheer me up. Please review, I love reading your thoughts and opinions.


	6. Dukov's Place

"So this is it then," She let out a breath of air and tilted her head to look at Charon who was nestling his shotgun back into its holster.

"Let me do the talking," He told her.

"You're kidding, right?"

"What?"

"You have to be kidding. If Ahzrukhal is right, he'll only be interested in what I have to say, and let's face it Big guy, a seven foot man glowering down on him isn't gonna get him talking. I hate to say it, but Ahzruhkal has a valid point. I should probably do the talking."

"I don't know..." He grumbled and he pondered over the fact that she'd referred to him as a man instead of a ghoul.

"Trust me, I'm _terribly_ persuasive," She gave him a wink and her eyebrow flicked up mischievously as she opened the double doors into Dukov's place.

They stepped into an entrance hall which was lined with fairy lights and in the center lay a double sized bed which a scantly dress woman sat on whilst necking a bottle of whiskey.

"Well what do we have here," A heavily accented voice called out to them echoing in the empty hall.

A man with grey, thinning short hair held out his arms as welcome, and a timid looking woman clutched to his side eyeing the strangers in the doorway cautiously.

"Dukov, I presume?" Viola held out her hand as a greeting a smiled sweetly at the man who was already examining her from head to foot. Once he finished, he took her hand and placed a kiss on it, and lingered there for what was longer than comfortable.

"You are correct, _moi luybov'_, and you are?" The Russian questioned, so absorbed in her he was yet to notice the giant towering at her side.

"My name's Charcoal and this is my associate, Charon," She gestured with a sweep of her hand and Dukov frowned.

"Well you, Sunflower, are more that welcome to stay with me, but I don't see why you've brought a..._friend_. I'll be all you'll need, and in return I offer sanctuary from the harsh realities beyond my castle," He breathed, a charming smile spread across his face.

"Cherry, get her a drink," He ordered and the small woman in the falling apart night dress nodded eagerly and tore herself from his side in search for a bottle of whiskey.

"I'm afraid I must decline your most gracious offer, as appealing as it may be," She began, and only Charon had the sense to notice the sarcasm that dripped from her smooth voice.

"But I am in need of something you have."

Before Dukov could reply with a sleazy remark, she continued.

"You have something I want. A little piece of information I'm sure you'll gladly depart with."

Cherry returned with a bottle and handed it to her with a small smile. Viola accepted it, and thanked Dukov and Cherry as she unscrewed the lid and took a swig. Dukov folded his arms and nodded for her to continue.

"Fairgrieve. A name I'm sure you've heard?" She paused, and when Dukov realised she was waiting for an answer, he nodded briskly though his eyes were now narrowed.

"Well, me and my associate are trying to find the good fellow, and truth be told, we're at quite a loss. I've heard, from a reliable source, you are the one to go to."

"You're wrong, Sunflower. I won't be telling you where he is. If I told you that, what sort of a friend would I be?"

"I have a little something that might change your mind," She purred, a coy expression slipping onto her face. Dukov smirked.

"We're not talking bottle caps, are we?"

"Oh no, sweetheart. We're talking about your life."

Charon was sure that if you were able to hear every muscle tense in that room, it would have reached a louder decibel than a Fatman going off.

This was not the plan. She couldn't threaten him like this. He'd try to kill them and they'd have to kill him then they'd never get the location. He shuddered at the thought of failing Ahzrukal after last time, and he felt sickened when he thought of what he'd do to her, or more importantly, what he'd have_ him_ do to her.

"Charcoal..." He growled into her her ear and Dukov was glaring daggers at her.

"You sure you want to do this, Sunflower?" He kept his voice steady, but it was clear that his words were drenched in venom.

"No. No, I don't. However I do know someone who does...his name's Mister Crowley." Dukov relaxed his shoulders and let out a bark of a laugh.

"Crowley? My old friend Crowley? He died long ago, that night when we all...no. He's dead. I know he is."

"I assure you he's not and for some reason, he wants you dead. He's living in Underworld, as a ghoul," She said slowly, reading the shimmer of understanding in Dukov's large eyes.

"If, and only if, you tell me where your pal Fairgrieve is...I'll help your situation with Mister Crowley and make sure you won't have and freaks turning up on your doorstep baying for your blood."

She chugged the last bit of the whiskey, and thanked him again as she placed the bottle on the floor with a light chink as it hit the tiles. Dukov bit the inside of his mouth and Charon felt relief wash over him.

They'd get the information now without having to buy him out with caps or worse. She was a silver tongued devil after all.

Dukov looked doubtful but the woman, Cherry, tugged on his arm.

"Baby, I don't want no one hurting you, tell the girl where your friend is," She pleaded, though it was clear she was only asking out of a sense of self preservation. Dukov chuckled and pulled her into him with one arm.

"So, Sunflower. How do you propose we get Crowley off my back?"

"He said you have a key. If I bring that to him, you're as good as dead and no one will come to snipe you in the head. _Don't_ ask, for some reason he took to the fancy of having you shot in the head. So, if you hand me over your keys I'll happily deliver them...as soon as you tell me where Fairgrieve is," She smiled warmly at him.

"Fine. You have a deal. Last time I saw Fairgrieve or heard of him, he was setting off towards the Dunwich building. He's not a popular man, but since when is a ghoul popular with humans? Now, here's my key. Give it to my old friend, _Mister Crowely_," He growled, and a dark sneer spread on his face.

Viola took the key off him a put it in one of the small army pockets she had lining a utility belt she kept loosely attached to her hips.

"Thank you for your cooperation, we greatly appreciate it." She gave him another one of her sun shaming smiles and turned to grin up at Charon who kept his eyes firmly glued to Dukov who was now tilting his head and staring at her chest.

"You know you're always welcome to stay, moi mallu luybov'," he gave her a charming smile.

"Well, if you'd be so kind, I would like to ask you a favour...with caps of course. I sort of fell into the river earlier, and if you had some water I could use to wash some of the radioactive grit and sediment off me, it would be greatly appreciated."

"How much?"

"How much you asking?"

"One hundred caps."

"Fifty."

"Seventy."

"Deal," She grinned and shook his hand.

"That's including some food right?" She asked with a cheeky smile. Dukov chuckled, and nodded, rolling his eyes.

"Fine. Cherry, get some water and show her upstairs." He leaned in closer to her.

"Not the purified, just the shit that's not pumped full of radiation."

"Sure thing, hon," She kissed his cheek and shuffled off up the grand staircase, beckoning Viola to follow her. She stepped forward and Charon stopped her.

"I wanted to get moving," He growled.

"Come on, I won't be long. Besides my skins getting itchy and I'm running low on Rad-away." She said and followed Cherry, happy when she heard the familiar grumbles of resignation off Charon as he stomped after her. He leaned into her.

"For fuck's sake don't let the creeps drug you. I don't want to haul your sorry ass out of here whilst Dukov tries to hump your leg." He growled, eyeing Dukov with a suspicious glare. Viola laughed a little louder than she intended and had to restrain herself when Cherry glared over her shoulder at them.

...

A small rusted tin tub was filled and Cherry left her to it, not saying goodbye as she left but glowering at Charon as an attempt to cover the fear that swam in her eyes.

"Hey Big guy, do you mind doing me a favour? I know you're not my guard dog but I'd really be grateful if you stood by the door for me. I don't trust Dukov. Do you mind?" Charon growled but didn't refuse and slammed the door on her.

Viola hastily undressed out of the clothes that were still a little damp and slid into the cold refreshing water, her legs hanging out of the sides at the knees and arms draped over the rough lining of the tub. She let out a euphoric giggle and splashed the water over her face, eventually drooping further in and sighing.

She reached out for her backpack and dug around for some soap she had found two weeks ago in one of the many toilets in the metro tunnels. She kissed it and cringed at the acrid flavour it left on her lips and lathered herself up, giving herself time just to sit and soak and feel oddly at home for once.

She hadn't bathed like this since she left the Vault. She ran more water through her hair and purred in delight. She grabbed a switchblade and began shaving. It felt good to actually shave since all the time she'd spent out in the wastes. She knew she had to give up a few of life's little luxuries when she left.

She got out feeling refreshed and all the dark purpling bruises on her body felt strangely soothed in the cool water. She grudgingly got changed again and was happy to see Charon waiting with his arms folded outside the door, face like thunder.

She shook out droplets from her wet hair making Charon wince as they hit him in the face. She grabbed his hand and slammed the sudded soap bar into his hand. Charon scowled.

"What is this?" He growled trying to hand it back to her and failing.

"Soap. Come on, you knew that one," She winked.

"Why is it in my hand?" His voice got lower as he glared at her.

"Because I didn't just pay seventy bottle caps for one of us to use it. Go on, I'll wait outside," She smiled and folded her arms nudging him with her elbow to encourage him in the direction of the open door. He didn't budge.

"No."

"Why?" She whined, pouting.

"Because I said no and I want to get moving."

"Awh c'mon. When was the last time you actually took a bath. It's only been a month for me and it's been like torture. You'll enjoy it, I promise." She beamed a toothy smile, but Charon wasn't convinced.

"No." He began marching off and halted at the top of the stairs when he didn't hear footsteps following.

"What?" He hissed in frustration.

"I'm not moving, Charon," She quipped, holding her head in the air.

"You will."

He made his way half way down the stairs and glanced over the banister. His eyes widened for a second before he marched back upstairs, grumbling incoherently.

"Fine."

"Really? What made you change your mind?"

"Do you have brain bleach in there?"

"What?"

"Just... God, just don't go downstairs," He pinched the bridge of what was left of his nose and slammed the door behind him.

"Charon...Charon?"

...

Charon hated to admit it, but the smoothskin had been right. The water had been a bigger relief than what he actually anticipated. He pulled up his black leather trousers and fastened the heavy iron buckle on his belt, adjusting the armored pieces to sit where they were supposed to on his legs.

He groaned and stretched out his arms, flexing the defined solid muscles. He twisted his neck and felt a satisfying crack and shook himself out.

"Okay...wow. I knew I called you Big guy for a reason but this is ridiculous." Viola's voice hit him like a slap. He bared his teeth at her.

"Get. Out. Now," He snarled lunging for his leather mercenary jacket. Viola held her hands in the air, the universal gesture for 'meaning no harm'.

"No need to snap at me. I was just seeing if you were okay. God how long has it taken for you to look like that!" She gaped as he flung the jacket over his head, looking strangely bear without all its iron armor and buckled belts. Charon had to restrain himself from shaking with anger.

Although he was comfortable with his ghoulification, he detested being patronised, even if he couldn't always show it. He felt another growl push itself from the back of his throat. The last person he expected it from was her, but then again, he hadn't known her for all that long.

"I mean seriously, to get muscles like _that_! Man that's a whole lifetime of work!" She smiled. Charon blinked.

His skin that was discoloured and worn away nearly everywhere revealing exposed muscle tissue wasn't what she was commenting on. He frowned in confusion, but he felt his shoulders relax. He continued to growl.

"I'll ask again. Get out. Next time I won't ask, I'll just throw you out."

"Hey, I didn't mean to upset you, just wanted to check to see if you're okay," Her smile faltered a little and Charon swallowed and straightened out his spine after realising he'd hunched over so his head was level with hers. Charon nodded, and ran his long ruined fingers through the tufts of red hair that was left on his scalp. Viola pulled the door shut.

...

Viola hurried after Charon panting as she tried to keep up with him as they headed south west, her hair still wet with the water and pulled back out of her face that now had fresh messy lines of charcoal rubbed across it.

"You know I'm sorry, right?" She called adjusting her backpack to get it to sit comfortably.

"Drop it, Smoothskin," Charon called back, his grip tightening on his shotgun.

"Yeah but you seemed real mad."

"You caught me off guard, that is all."

"So you're not mad?" She asked timidly.

"No." Charon sighed out, and Viola smiled.

"Good. You know you're pretty scary when your mad. It looked like you wanted to grab me by the throat and hold me under the water until the bubbles stopped," she laughed and finally caught up with him, tottering along at his long strided pace. Charon cocked an eyebrow and let himself twist the one corner of his mouth into a smile.

"The idea was appealing," He said in his low husky voice. Viola grinned.

"Are you joking with me Mr. Charon?," She laughed, folding her arms at him.

_"Mr. Charon_?" He echoed, drawing his head back.

"Yeah, Mr. Charon. I would have called you by your full name if I knew it," She chirped nudging him in the ribs with her elbow.

It was unbelievable how often the strange little woman actually touched him. Whether it was slaps on the back, nudgings or pushes, she couldn't stop poking and prodding him and he wondered if she was like this with everyone or just him. He began to think that maybe it was out of a morbid curiosity that she kept wanting to touch him because he was a ghoul.

"So, you going to tell me your name or what?"

"My name is Charon."

"That's what your mother called you?"

"No."

"What did your mother call you?"

"I don't remember my mother so I wouldn't know. I don't remember my father either." Charon told her, his voice hollow.

"Do you remember anything before the war? You know...in the before times?" She asked quietly.

"Lots of things."

"Like what?"

"I was happy." An awkward moment of silence passed, and Viola turned her gaze to the floor.

Charon didn't spend much of his time remembering his time spent before the bombs fell, in fact he was afraid if he did try to remember his memories would elude him. Sometimes when his normal thoughts would trail off he'd catch glimpses of green and the smell of wet grass through an open window the sound of someone laughing...a woman.

"How old were you when the bombs went off?" Viola asked, ripping him out of his thoughts. Charon ran a tongue over his teeth. He wasn't keen on being berated with a dozen questions.

"I was...thirty...thirty something," He replied. Although he could remember the year the bombs went off, he couldn't remember the date of his birth, so being able to tell how old he was exactly was difficult.

"Wow, you're old."

"_No_, you're just young...how old are you exactly?"

"Nineteen," Charon nodded. He'd thought she was older, not by much, but by a little.

"Like I don't feel old enough already," He grumbled, and Viola laughed.

"Awh c'mon Charon, you're young at_ heart_."

"Don't mock me."

"What are you going to do about it, old man?"

"I can assure you, _physically_, I am not an old man."

"Ooo, are you flirting with me?"

"Viola, you're not even a fraction of my age." _And I'm a ghoul_, he added mentally.

"Awh," She whined, pouting with her strangely plump lips that were on the verge of being a little too big for her face. In fact most of her features all seemed to compete to be the largest on her face besides her nose, which made for something awkward looking yet not unattractive.

"Come on, Smoothskin, we need to pick up the pace if we want to get there before nightfall."

...

Can't thank you all enough for the reviews, I love reading them so much, it's great to hear your thoughts and opinions! If anyone is missing Ahzruhkal, I promise he's going to turn up again soon, so stay tuned chaps!


	7. Dunwich

_Okay guys, there are mild __**spoilers**__ in this chapter for the Dunwich building, if you haven't been there yet it's located in the far bottom left hand corner of the map, and my God it's creepy as fuck...incredibly fun though, remember to turn up the volume and shut off your radios for this one! _

_Personally, I would advise you go to the Dunwich building first, only because there was this one bit where I full on jumped out of my skin that I've wrote about...don't judge me I don't do well with flashy things. _

_Anywho, I hope someone enjoys reading this as much as I love writing it. Thank you.  
_

...

"Oh...come on...please?" Viola pleaded through choppy breaths. Charon let a deep rumble of a growl grow in his chest in protest.

"No," He grunted.

"Awh, come on Big guy, I'm begging you!" She implored, her breath catching in her throat small, chest heaving with effort for breath. He hissed and looked down on her, face red and hair tangled gazing up at him with her lips slightly parted.

"Just a little longer," He groaned, quickening his pace and making Viola let out a long moan.

"Please?" She sighed heavily, feeling her head go dizzy.

"For the last time, I am not giving you a '_boost_'," Charon growled, striding up the steep hill towards Dunwich with Viola practically on all fours through exhaustion.

"Why not? You're strong enough, all I'm asking is to sit on your back for a bit," She whined through short breaths scowling up at him.

"I'm not a pack mule. You walk like everyone else has to in the God damn Wastes."

"Urgh...I think I'm going to keel over."

"Then stop whining and do it already," Charon rolled his eyes and turned back to see her faun like legs wobbling with effort.

Despite feeling as if she would pass out, she couldn't help but let a grin grow on her lips, happy that Charon was feeling more comfortable around her and speaking rather than just responding with his usual snorts and rumbles of indignation.

"Miss 101, Three Dog's demolition darling who runs head first at Supermutants, broken by a gentle slope. How disappointing," He grumbled.

"Hey! Don't fuck with me, I could take you down right now if I felt like it."

"Sure you could...do you enjoy spending time on your back?"

"I'd like to see you _put_ me on my back," Viola felt a cheeky grin creep onto her face, a challenge gleaming in her eyes.

Charon swallowed and had to beat back the image that tried to claw itself into his head with a big mental stick. Charon grumbled a reply and Viola let out a barking laugh which she had to cut short as a coughing fit threatened to take its place.

"Oooo...at a loss for words are we? In fear, no doubt," She giggled, nudging him in the ribs with her bony elbow.

"Do not challenge me."

"Oh, but I am," She winked, still laughing.

Charon put his foot out behind her legs and pushed his one arm into her chest. Viola stumbled back, lost her footing on Charon's out stretched leg and fell onto her back, the air from her lungs knocked out of her. Charon couldn't help but let a grin of triumph spread across his face as he looked down on her, shock etched into her soft features.

She let out a of howl of laughter and kicked her leg out, hitting him in the back of his knees and taking Charon off guard so he stumbled before composing himself. Viola was back on her feet and had holstered her gun, tiny fists held up in a mock fighting stance.

"You're gonna get it if you're not careful, Smoothskin," Charon growled a warning, although his face wasn't serious.

"Oh, you'd like to see me get it wouldn't you?"

"Are _you_ flirting with _me_?" He growled scowling, copying what she'd accused him of before.

"Perhaps," Viola laughed and took her gun out again looking up at Charon who was wearing his usual stoic mask.

"Is that the place we're looking for?" Viola stopped suddenly and narrowed her eyes. The sun had just about dipped below the earth and already the murky claws of darkness began to seize the dying day.

"Yes...that's it."

Viola punched the air in triumph and let out an exhausted laugh.

"Thank God!" She sighed and turned to get a better look at the building and her mouth went dry. They stood together in silence, gazing at the grey, ruined building that loomed over them even from afar. The silence of the night had swept in, and only the sound of their own rhythmic breathing remained.

"Are you sure that's it?" She swallowed, her heart beat starting to quicken its pace.

"Yes."

"Why the Hell does Fairgrieve want to go into a place like that?" She spat in disbelief.

"I do not know."

"Right, well I think we should get in before we get eaten by a Yao guai."

"You're staying here."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Why?"

"Do you know anything about Dunwich?"

"Big guy, I crawled out of a vault a couple of months ago, I'm hardly going to be a well of knowledge when it comes to old, rotting buildings in the wastes."

"It's full of feral ghouls. They won't attack me, but they'll attack you."

"I'm not letting you go alone! What if you need me?"

"I won't."

"Charon we're a team. You can't just ask me to let you run into feral ghoul infested buildings without me...where would the fun be in that?"

Charon hesitated. She considered them as a team? Viola smiled softly at him.

"You know, my dad use to read me verses from the bible, and although he loved the one my mother had loved before she died, my favorite was always Ruth 1:16-17. "Don't ask me to leave you and turn back, where you go, I go, where you stay, I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God, my God. Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord punish me, be it ever so severely, if anything but death separates you and me." I wish he would have remembered that when he left..."

"Are you religious?"

"...not anymore," She breathed, avoiding his eye. A moment passed and Charon let out a resigned sigh.

"Come on then, Smoothskin," He grumbled. Viola beamed up at him and Charon groaned when she practically jumped through joy and began bobbing in excitement.

"What made you change your mind?" She asked, walking beside him up to the iron door.

"Nothing," He answered, forcing back an old memory which threatened to surface. The woman's smile vanished from his mind as he swung the double doors open and stepped into the shadows.

...

"I don't like the look of this place," Charon growled as soon as the door shuddered to swing shut behind them with an echoing clunk of steel.

"I hear you, Big fella," Viola agreed, gripping her loaded combat shotgun. She shuddered as Charon walked ahead of her and stooped to open up two ammunition boxes, taking what they held inside. He straightened up, scowling at the blackened skeletons littered across the tiled floors that were splashed with dried black blood.

The eery white lights flickered with a dull buzz that cast juttering shadows all around them and the air smelt stagnant and still.

"Why is it so quiet?" Viola whispered, shuffling up to his side and looking down the corridor that appeared to be oddly animated in the strange, moving shadows. Charon pushed a breath of air through his nose and shrugged.

"God...it's maddening..." She breathed walking down the corridor and stepping over a couple of skeletons. She turned right into a stairwell.

"Hey Charon, up here," She called, her voice barely above a whisper.

She heard something scuttle and she aimed her shotgun in front of her, leaping back when she saw the rotten face of a feral ghoul glaring at her with its cold, white myopic eyes, a long drone of a cry wheezing out of it's slightly parted mouth which was dripping with saliva.

More out of luck than judgment, she pulled the trigger and sent a bullet through its head, exploding it at close range and showering her with a splatter of blood. She cringed as a shard of its skull tore her cheek. She stumbled back and slipped on the pool of blood on the floor, but before she could fall she felt a hand support her on the small of her back.

"I got your back," He told her, making sure she'd regained her balance before he took his hand away. "Be more careful," He told her sternly and Viola tried to rub the blood off her face but only succeeded in smearing it into her skin. She nodded briskly.

"Yeah...yeah of course," She panted, creeping up the stairs, stopping at the corner and flinging herself around it with her barrel raised in case a ghoul was lurking behind it.

They successfully made it up the stairs and Viola opened the door, coughing as a blast of dust hit her in the face through the gap in the threshold. She squinted in the poor light. The room was an office block, cracked and broken computers splayed across filthy desks and some which had been shoved to the floors which Viola noted had large holes in them which lead to the room below.

"Charon...I can't see in here," She hissed, her body jerking when she heard the building moan and creak beneath the feet of the unseen ghouls.

"Do you have a light?" He asked, contemplating telling her to stay where she was so he could find Fairgrieve alone. She was useless to him if she couldn't kill anything.

"Er...ah! My Pipboy!" She tapped into the small metal device on her arm, turning up the screen brightness so everything around them was illuminated with a dull green light. It was close enough.

She stepped forward into the office block, a chill descending down her spine, making her skin quiver. She heard a burst of laughter and she spun around, holding her gun up high.

"What?" Charon demmanded, making his way cautiously through the room, stepping over corpses, fresh and old.

"Did...did you hear that?" She asked, swallowing hard. Charon mumbled a response and by the tone of his voice he clearly didn't.

"Laughing...laughing...did you hear that?" She asked this time more desperately.

"No, Smoothskin," He sighed heavily, carefully making his way around a charred hole in the floor where panels of wood were visible beneath the outer flesh of tiles on the floor.

Viola breathed heavily and scurried after him, gun held tightly in her hands. They moved like ghosts through the shadows, neither of them making a noise as they slid through different office blocks and stairwells until they reached a room where there were holes leading three floors down.

A screeching cry of a feral ghoul ripped through the silence and Viola felt her muscles tense. Charon lifted his head, looked to her and shook it. It didn't come from the floor they were on. He pointed downwards.

"We're not going down there, right?" She breathed into his ear, voice barely audible. Charon felt her warm breath on his face and nodded slowly, unsure whether he liked or disliked her being so close in his personal space.

She heard a giggle behind her and in panic swung around and fired off a shot, causing the ghouls below to wail and shriek in a frenzy, scurrying off to find a way to get to them.

"What the fuck was that!?" Charon snarled, unable to keep calm as his eyes bored into the panting woman.

"Someone's following us!" She hissed a reply, head darting around like a hunted bird.

"I would know if someone was following us. Listen. No one is following us...do you understand?" Charon hissed, but Viola was not convinced.

"Charon, I keep hearing laughter..."

"It's sensory deprivation. No one is following us," He explained, knowing all too well the effects of sensory deprivation, a popular form of torture back in the institution.

He remembered how they would tie him down to a chair in a dark room, gagged, no sound, no smell, nothing but the feeling of rope against his bare skin. It conjured the effect of the mind going into overdrive, desperately trying to cling to what felt like it's draining senses, which often caused hallucinations and more often a complete lapse into insanity.

"No Charon, I swear to God, I can hear something," She growled. Charon ignored her and jumped down into the next floor, bending his knees on impact to break his fall. Five feral ghouls spun to face him, but nothing happened. They continued shuffling around, sniffing the air tentatively, knowing that a human was lurking around in their sanctuary.

Charon took enjoyment in aiming at his own pleasure, and blew the heads off three in less than three seconds. A smile tugged on his lips. One screeched out and ran towards him, arms flailing. Charon slammed the butt of his gun into his face, feeling it's teeth cave inward with the blow. He swung it round, hitting the creature square in the cheek, sending it spinning and toppling down through the crack in the floor. A dull thud echoed up to Charon to signal it's sudden death.

He tossed the Shotgun in the air, and caught it just as the final ghoul ran towards him. He slammed the barrel into it's empty eye socket and pulled the trigger. His body tingled with the familiar buzz of the hunt and he suppressed a grin. Viola was watching him from above and was looking for a safer way down.

She felt something brush against her ear. Heard the sound of lips parting into a grin. A snicker.

She spun around, losing her footing on the edge and tumbling down. Charon rushed forward and managed to break her fall by catching her in his arms before dumping her roughly onto the floor.

"Be. Careful," He hissed angrily, picking up his beloved shotgun that he was forced to drop to make sure she didn't break a leg.

"Charon, I swear I can-"

"Viola, you're going to get us both killed. I am not saying you're lying, but you have to ignore it. It is not real."

"But Charon, I-"

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Smoothskin. Not while I'm around," He told her, voice level.

Viola blinked, and Charon shuffled uncomfortably under her shocked expression which faded to a light smile.

"You're not getting attached to me, are you old man?" Charon hissed under his breath and scowled. He preferred Big guy to old man.

"I'm just playing. Thank you. I mean it, makes me feel better knowing you've got my back. Just remember, for what it's worth, I've got yours too," She smiled, already feeling her muscles relax slightly although she was still trembling a little. Charon scowled and nodded firmly.

He jumped down into the next room, a loud crack echoed around him and he stood up, looking around him for more hostiles. Nothing. He gestured for Viola to follow him. She hesitated.

"Bend your knees as you hit the ground. It softens your fall," He told her, and Viola nodded. She sat down on the edge and pushed herself off, landing heavily on her feet, wincing a little as she did. Charon nodded, and they headed off towards a splintered door. Viola began twitching.

She could feel something against her skin.

It's just dust, she told herself. Just dust. She heard a whisper.

"What did you say?" She asked Charon quietly who shrugged.

"Nothing," He answered truthfully.

Viola swallowed, but her mouth was dry. The whispering came again. She heard a twisted smile in its voice.

She marched past Charon and flung open the door, and felt her entire being go rigid and the air ceased to move from her lungs. She felt her heart spasm in her tight chest.

She stood in a clean, tidy office block. The walls were white, the light was pooling from the open windows, the sound of humming computers whispered into the air like a lullaby. She looked up. A man in a new, clean pressed pre war uniform stood looking right at her. His head tilted in confusion, and a small smile slipped onto his face. He opened his mouth to speak.

Viola felt a convulsion as the white apparition materialised out of her vision. She dropped to the floor and she could hear Charon shouting. She looked up, swaying, her head feeling dizzy and her eyes unfocused. She saw a glowing ghoul standing where the man had been. She got to her feet and stumbled back down.

Charon was firing shots off at the ghoul, hitting it multiple times in the stomach which oozed radioactive blood. Another shot to the face and it was over. It slumped down dead. Charon stormed up to her and pulled her off the floor.

"Charon, please believe me, I saw him!"

"We do not have time for this," Charon said in a mechanical voice, tugging her along with him.

"No...I saw him," She gestured to the corpse as they strode past him, "I saw him when he was a man...when he was alive..." She breathed, gazing around her.

"And this place too, before the bombs fell. Charon...that strange smell...musky and earthy with something else, is that what they called grass?"

"Viola, listen to me. You need to snap out of it. I can't guarantee I can protect you when you're in this state. You are meant to have my back too," He said firmly, regretting taking her with him.

"Hey, Charon..."

"What?"

"Can we listen to these?" She pulled out a few holotapes from her bag. "I've been collecting them...they're from Jaime,"

"Who is Jaime?"

"I don't know, but I really want to find out. I don't know what's going on here but I don't like it. Not one bit. Can't you feel it?" She said, stopping in her tracks.

"Later," Charon pushed forward without stopping.

"Hey...a terminal!" She smiled, rushing over to the dusty computer that was buzzing out a low constant drone. She reached it, and picked up another holotape from its side. Charon started to growl. She hunched down and began hammering into the keyboard.

"Okay...find the inverted brackets...dud removed...good...okay...which word doesn't end or start with the same letters and the others...inglorious...done!" She grinned in triumph and began reading. Her face drained of colour and her lips parted.

"How many do you have?" Charon asked, stepping beside her and reading over her shoulder.

"Nine," She stuttered. "That's all of them...I think."

She opened up her notes on the Pipboy, and hesitated over the first one, before jamming the button down with her index finger. Both stood still as they listened to the recording of the man they never met.

He recounted his events, and Viola couldn't help but feel sick when he spoke of tracking his dad. After getting in with some raiders and then escaping after helping their victims kill them, he followed the trail of his father to Dunwich...and that's when Viola felt the blood rush cold through her veins. He'd found his dad...a ghoul, or so it seemed...nearly unrecognisable. Viola felt sick. The recording echoed.

"God help me. I found Dad today... I didn't think it was him, but... The face. The zombies didn't touch him. I think... He was becoming like them. Didn't know it was him until I found that old book near him. No more killing. I just need to go. Can't forget the book. All I have left of him. It's warm against the stone. I'll just rest a while..." Viola let out a whine when she heard his voice crack into a ghoul trade mark growl and covered her mouth.

Thoughts tangled in her head. What if it was too late to find her own dad? What on earth would she do if she found him like Jaime's dad? She felt herself shake. The final holotape played.

"Sharp knife. Sharp knife to send him to deep temple. Flay and say my words. Abdul comes again, on the feast of the weaker. Feast for the Deep Temple. Born again, here. Alhazred G'yeth G'yeth." The journal entry finished, and Charon pulled her away gently from the computer screen.

"There's nothing we can do. Let's find Fairegrieve and get out of here," Charon told her. Viola nodded, her eyes glazed over and heart pounding.

They walked together to another door and a loud groan echoed beneath their feet. The sound of wood splintering cracked out and Charon swore as the floor gave way beneath him. His Shotgun splayed across the floor out of his reach.

"Charon!" Viola screamed, throwing her shotgun to the floor and lunging for him, catching him as he fell. Charon managed to grasp onto the ledge of the hole that opened up to swallow him into the blackness below. Charon snarled and started pulling himself up, viola's hands grasping his forearms, helping him tug himself back up.

Charon got one knee hooked onto the ledge and Viola pulled him up, gasping underneath his weight.

"Are you alright?" She panted, hands on her knees fighting for breath. Charon nodded, and straightened himself up. She smiled and nodded, relieved. She knelt down to pick up her shotgun, and as she did Charon saw something behind her, racing towards her. His eyes grew wide.

"Viola move!" He shouted, but before he could lift his shotgun off the floor a feral ghoul barreled into Viola's chest, taking her over the ledge and plunging down into the darkness below. He heard her scream as she hit the floor, a sickening snap filled the air and then a shotgun fire. He heard a heavy weight hit the floor. He ran over to the ledge and looked down. Viola was at least three floors down and there was no way he could reach her.

"Charon!" She called out whilst backing away fromt he corpse of the ghoul she had just shot. Charon felt his chest tighten. He'd promised to look after her. If she died he'd have to stay with Ahzruhkal for god knows how many more years. He then felt disgusted with himself.

She was the one lying at the bottom of a pit and he was only thinking for himself. He shook the thought away. It didn't matter now. What mattered was keeping her alive. He didn't want to admit it even to himself, but he didn't want to see the only human being that valued him as something other than a weapon to get torn apart by the claws and teeth of feral ghouls.

"I'm coming to get you," He yelled down at the little figure huddled up lined only by the green light of her Pipboy.

"Charon..."

"I said I'm coming to get you!" He shouted louder and winced as he heard the screeches of more ghouls.

"Charon...I just wanted to say thank you,"

"Don't you dare talk like that!" He snarled, and his brain started to pulse in pain.

"Emotion is weakness...suppress weakness...suppress emotion," he heard the cold robotic voice whisper to him, making him convulse with the flow of memories from the institute.

"If you see my dad...tell him I love him...okay? Promise me that,"

"No," He hissed.

"Promise!" She implored, trying to get up and letting out a cry as her broken ankle collapsed under her.

"I am coming to get you and that's final."

His head was screeching at him now, and he knew he couldn't let his emotions get the better of him or he'd black out. He hadn't blacked out in a long time. If he failed to uphold a command, his brain would simply shut down and he'd lapse into a zombie like reflex in which he would do whatever he was told unconsciously. He couldn't let that happen. He find Fairegrieve kill him and then report back to Ahzruhkal, leaving her to die at the bottom of the pit.

He calmed his breathing, and reigned in his emotions. He let out a sigh, and the pressure in his brain began to ease.

"Viola, I will come to get you," He told her calmly, and turned on his heels and disappeared from her view.

Viola felt her chest crumble in on itself and she burst into tears, shuffling into a corner and hugging her shotgun to her chest.

...

_Oh the joys of Dunwich. Thank you for keeping up with this people, I appreciate every follow, favorite and review I get, it makes me so happy._

_ Please be patient, this is all going somewhere, I've already written the return to Ahzruhkal and futher on from that...you'll be pleased to know that he's still behaving like the callous evil little shit that he always has been...but God don't we all love a good villian? _


	8. Return

_Sorry for the long chapter guys, 6,000 + words, but I really wanted to fit Ahzruhkal into this one instead of waiting to upload it in the next chapter. I love this Character probably a little more than what is healthy. _

...

Viola didn't know how long she'd been down in the pit for. It could have been minuets, it could have been hours, she couldn't know for sure. She knew there were doors she could go through, but she didn't want to risk running into feral ghouls, especially not on a broken ankle.

The voices had started up again, and this time they were louder. Viola could almost make out what they were saying. She rocked gently back and forth, humming over the sound of the whispers that mocked her, trying to block out their sneers. She wiped her stinging tears from her cheek and stroked the barrel of her gun.

The door opposite her creaked opened up, and Viola aimed her gun at the figure in the doorway. It was a ghoul, he had his hands in the air.

"Charon?" She laughed in relief, and began to unravel herself out of the corner. He stepped into the light of her Pipboy and Viola's face dropped.

"You're not in hell sweetheart, the ferryman hasn't come to take you yet," The ghoul crackled out and Viola stumbled back, forcing herself against the wall, shotgun raised again.

"Get any closer and I'll shoot, Jaime!" She snarled, aiming for his head. An echoing laugh rang out, eerily reminiscent of the ones she'd been hearing earlier. Maybe it wasn't her head after all?

"I'm not Jaime. My name is Fairgrieve miss, and it's a pleasure to meet you," He bowed courteously, and removed his pre war bowler hat and tucking it into his stomach.

Viola relaxed a little, but didn't take her gun away.

"Fairegrieve?" She breathed. He was here all along.

"Yes, Miss. If you'll indulge me so, may I ask who I have the utmost pleasure of addressing?" He asked, placing his hat back on his head.

"Viola...my name is Viola," She told him without hesitating. It's not like he was going to live to tell anyone anyway.

He breathed out a wheezing sigh dreamily.

"Oh...how I love Shakespeare...your parents must have been well cultured, my dear."

"Shakespeare?" Viola narrowed her eyes.

"Looks like it didn't rub off on you then..."

"What?"

"Never you mind my darling, never you mind. Please, allow me to escort you to my temporary home."

"I don't think that's a good idea...I came in with a friend...have you seen him?"

"No, but I have _heard_ him. Screaming the place down and killing my brothers one at a time. Quite the little warrior, isn't he?"

Viola nodded. Sounded like Charon. He couldn't be lying either since he used the word little, a word which would have been ridiculous to even contemplate using if he'd seen the size of him.

"Can you take me to him?" Viola suddenly asked, a light of hope flickering in her chest.

"It would be delightful to have you accompany me, my dear," Fairgrieve said dreamily, walking towards her and holding out his arm.

Viola tucked her shotgun away and hesitantly took it, resting much of her weight on him as she limped at his side, cringing in pain every time her ankle took her weight.

Viola couldn't quite tell if Fairgrieve was insane or just highly eccentric. He was humming along to an unheard song, his head swaying a little as he did. The tufts of what was left of his hair that stuck out from underneath his hat were a dark red like Charons, which made her feel a little more eased at the familiarity.

He lead her down a staircase, and Viola silently prayed that they wouldn't bump into any of Fairgrieve's _brothers_. She cautiously looked at him through the corner of her eye. He had well defined cheek bones and a strong jaw line, and Viola couldn't help but think that he was once handsome before his ghoulification.

His humming grew louder, and Viola recognised the song off Three Dog's radio station.

"I don't want to set the world on fire," She whispered, and Fairgrieve spun to look at her, a wide toothy grin plastered on his face.

"I just want to start a flame in your heart," He sung at her in his gravely voice, a smile set across his lips as he opened an iron door. Viola felt her mouth drop open.

A make shift doctor's unit had been set up, a surgical table lay in the center surrounded by gas canisters. A couple of computers buzzed away in the corner.

Viola limped away from Fairegrieve into the center of the room, looking over the stained walls and grey tiled floors. It was probably once the first aid room for the office block. She spun around when she heard the door clunk shut and the sound of a lock twisting. Fairgrieve grinned at her, and for the first time Viola realized he was shaking.

"Er...Fairgrieve?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Why did you lock the door?" Viola forced herself to ask. Before he could answer Viola lifted her hands up to take the shotgun from her back, but Fairgrieve was the first to move.

He dug a foot into her heel, making her yell out as a burst of agony coursed up her leg, making her stomach turn. She collapsed into Fairgrieve's arms who tugged her towards the hospital bed.

Viola tried to reach the knife she kept in her knee high laced up boot but couldn't reach. Fairgrieve pinned her down to the bed and slammed a knee into her stomach, paralysing her for a moment in pain. At that moment he managed to buckle a wrist down.

Viola swung out a punch which crashed into his cheek, knocking him back off the bed. She tried to unbuckle her wrist but Fairgrieve was persistent. He managed to tear her hand away and slam it down, buckling the other down with a gentle, almost paternal smile etched on his lips.

She thrashed and kicked her legs out but Fairgrieve lay across them, finishing buckling them down and stepping back to survey his handy work. Although he wore a soft smile across his face, his eyes looked dead and cold.

Viola hissed at him and continued fighting her restraints as he watched her carefully. He walked away, brushing his hands over rusting surgical instruments that decorated the wall.

"Do you enjoy music, dearest Viola?" He sighed as he pressed on the radio. Sure enough it was the Ink Spots. He lifted his hands over a surgical blade, and began caressing it lovingly.

"I've lost all ambition of worldly acclaim...I just want to be the one you love," He droned out, more to himself than her, and Viola felt her chest restrict.

"Yes...Yes I love music!" She forced herself to say brightly. Whatever he was planning, it wasn't good news, her only hope was keeping him distracted.

"You do?" He spun round clumsily knocking a tray of needles to the floor which shattered making Viola wince.

Fairgrieve didn't react and only stared vacantly at her, a slight wonder shimmering in his eyes as he waited for an answer.

"Of course! Erm...what's your favorite song?" She tried her hardest not to stutter, and only hoped the wobble in her voice wasn't noticed.

"Oh, how cruel to make me choose only one..."He breathed, reaching down towards a large gas canister and finding a breathing mask, hooking it up to the canister.

"Oh please tell me!" She begged, feeling herself on the brink of tears as she watched the mad man mutter to himself inaudibly.

"And with your admission that you feel the same, I'll have reached the goal I'm dreaming of believe me..."

"Is that it? Your favorite song? Hey wait, stop..." Viola pleaded, watching him pick up a pair of crooked, rusted scissors.

"I suppose it is, my dear. You haven't told me yours yet...please enlighten me," He smiled politely, slowly snapping the scissors open and shut, his head tilted slightly to the side.

"Ah, well...It'd be either Bob Crosby, dear heart and gentle people or Civilisation,"

"Wonderful, exquisite choices..." He breathed, stepping towards her and slipping one of the scissors blades beneath her jacket and resting it on her stomach.

He left it there and began unbuckling her leather jacket, opening it up to reveal her grey tank top beneath. He picked up the scissors and cut upwards through the flimsy material exposing her white stomach which shivered beneath the cold blade of the knife.

"God, what are you doing?" She wheezed, afraid of how he would answer.

"I have a gift for you Viola. A gift for everyone...it pleases me that such a lovely, polite young lady will be the first to receive it,"

"What are you talking about?" She breathed, her chest heaving and the cold biting into her exposed flesh.

"You seem intelligent...do you know about a thing called beta rays?"

"Yes...it's highly radioactive...if it get into your system it...it kills you,"

"Yes but is that true?"

"Yes,"

"Not anymore. It was easy, figuring out how to accelerate the effects of the radiation, a little more difficult finding out how to make the dosage non lethal yet still achieve the desired result, but even harder to learn how to administer it to a large body of people..."

"Wait...desired result?"

"Yes," He smiled lightly, running the ends of his crusting fingers over the smooth plane of her stomach. She shuddered away from him.

"What is the desired result, Fairgrieve? Tell me!" She begged, looking frantically around her for anything that would help her.

"Ghoulification," He said simply, turning away and rummaging through draws behind him, pulling out a swab and a dark rustic liquid. Viola choked and watched in horror as he ran the iodine over her stomach, humming in tranquility again.

"It's a gift, Viola. I promise. Your life greatly extended, your senses become heightened and you become stronger...honestly...you people have this misconception that being a ghoul is an affliction, but they're wrong. It is the cure."

"Is this why Ahzruhkal wants you dead?" Viola breathed, and Fairgrieve stopped in his tracks. He looked up to her, genuine fear chiselled into his features.

"Ahz...Ahzruhkal?"

"Yes,"

"He is dead,"

"No, Fairgrieve, he wants _you_ dead." Fairgrieve took a step back, shaking his head.

"No..." He breathed.

"Tell me why he wants you dead, Fairgrieve!" Please...I can help you," She lied. Even with being used as a guinea pig for an insane experiment she still felt a little bad for lying to him...he was mentally unhinged after all.

"It doesn't matter now," He said sternly, fitting a breathing mask over her face. She wriggled and pulled at her restraints but they didn't budge. He let out a chuckling two toned laugh.

"Oh my dear, nothing matters now. Do you want to know what I'm going to do? Alright well if you insist I'll tell you. You're going to inhale the toxicated gas which you'll absorb through the respiratory system into the blood stream, then I need to monitor the internal effects of your ghoulification, I may not have the correct equipment to do that without opening you up, so I apolgise," He explained calmly.

"Tell me why Ahzruhkal wants you dead!" She pleaded, hoping to gain a few more precious seconds before he split her in two.

"What matters now is making sure that your ghoulification is successful. Then I can focus on a way to get my cure to the wider public...oh you're so good for coming down here to help me...I needed a volunteer," He smiled sweetly.

There was no way Viola could argue with the logic of a madman, and instead focused on getting him talking about Ahzruhkal.

"Please...Fairgrieve, I'd really love to know," She pouted as coyly as she could, hoping to spark a pang of pity in his heart. Fairgrieve hesitated. Viola lined the word please with her lips, eyes wide and hopeful.

"I...we...we used to be friends. Or at least I thought we were. I met him in the vault, back when we were human...before the cure. He was a gentleman, calm, sophisticated, always willing to lend a hand or so it seemed. My brother, well he wasn't really my brother but we grew up together and we were lucky to get into the same vault, didn't like him. Told me he was no good but I couldn't see it. At the time I thought we were the unlucky ones when we all started to turn...of course I see the truth now."

"Our vault, although designed to protect us from the initial blast of the bombs, was not so resilient when it came to radiation. Vault Tec liked their little experiments, didn't they? Those who didn't die of radiation poisoning became ghouls...and Ahzruhkal''s appearance final reflected what was on the inside..." He breathed, his eyes glancing nervously around as if he was waiting for the smug bastard to step out of one of the shadows.

"Eventually the whole vault was on the brink of collapse, alliances started to appear and family turned against family and that's when the killing started. We were scared...so frightened and alone...and that's when Ahzruhkal made his move. He took Tripfall and I and we left the vault...we should have stayed..." He murmured, eyes glazing over.

He swallowed hard, and spun round sharply, fumbling for the cleanest scalpel he had.

"Then what happened? Please, Fairgrieve tell me! Please!" Viola choked as she watched him run his ruined fingers of the blade.

"Nuclear winter. I didn't see the sun for half a century..." He sighed, turning slowly back around and gazed at her stomach.

"Please! I can help you..."

"Oh my dear you already are! Being so kind as to let me do this to you...really you are a wonderful young lady,"

"Fairgrieve I want to know the end of your story," Viola managed to say in the most demanding tone she could muster.

"It was so cold...we would have died if we were human...Tripfall broke his leg on the ice one night, I told him I'd look after him, I was a doctor after all and his friend. When I went to sleep, I...I heard a gunshot. By the time I'd reached where he was sleeping, his head was gone...and Ahzruhkal was standing over him. He told me it was the kindest thing to do...that anything could have happened to him in that state and he'd have gotten both of us killed," He stepped towards her and cocked his head to the side.

"I'm afraid I don't have any anesthetic..."

"Fairgrieve don't do this..."

"But my dear it is a gift! I know it'll work this time for sure...now let's get you ready then I'll turn on the gas canister,"

"Fairgrieve!" Viola screamed and the blade dug into the soft flesh just below the center of her rib cage.

She then heard something click.

The door swung open and Charon aimed his shotgun at Fairgrieve who tilted his head as if in confusion. Charon pulled the trigger. Fairgrieve was dead before he hit the floor.

"Charon!" Viola laughed, her head feeling dizzy with relief. Charon marched up to her and tore the gas mask from her face and began unbuckling her arms. Once done, she helped him unbuckle her ankles and she hissed in agony as Charon accidently nudged into her broken ankle.

She jumped off the table onto her one good leg and lost her balance, falling onto Charon who propped her up.

"You okay, Smoothskin?" Charon asked in his husky voice which was even more gravelly with all the shouting he'd been doing.

"What took you so damn long?" She laughed, feeling tears roll down her face.

"Picking locks is not my strong point."

"How much did you hear?"

"Enough to know that was Fairgrieve and he was planning some sort of experiment on you." Viola shuddered and then looked down at herself.

"Oh," She breathed and quickly zipped up her leather jacket. She looked at Charon and saw his hands were burnt badly.

"Charon what happened?" She fretted, pulling away from him and limping heavily over to a medical box that hung off one of the dust encrusted walls.

"A broken terminal exploded." He told her, watching her pull out a ball of bandages from the first aid kit.

"Sit," She told him nodding to the hospital bed.

"It is nothing. We must be going."

"No it's not, come here."

"Ghouls heal at an accelerated rate."

"I don't care I'm not leaving till I have you patched up," Viola told him.

Charon scowled, and gave her his hands, not bothering to sit down. He watched her as unraveled the usual bandages he kept on his hands that didn't cover his fingers that were now blackened with soot.

"Why do you bandage your hands?" She asked quietly.

"Fighting. It supports the knuckles so I don't break my hands if I punch something too hard."

"Oh," She breathed. She took the old bandages off and wrapped up his hands including his fingers up into the clean ones. Charon snatched his hands back as soon as she was done.

"Did I hurt you?" She questioned, suddenly worried she was being too rough.

"No." He said, reaching for a rifle like gun Viola hadn't noticed that was strapped to his side. He held it out, and Viola eyed it carefully.

"What's this?" She asked, reaching out and taking it, holding it and smiling when she found how comfortable it was to carry.

"Chinese assault rifle...I have some ammo for it. It's yours," He told her.

She would be so much more efficient when killing wielding this type of a gun, it'd be easier for her to maneuver than her shotgun, as well as having the added perk that it was in supreme condition since it was well looked after by its previous owner. He decided not to tell her he prized it from the cold dead hands of the Jaime she was obsessing over earlier.

He took her wrist and pulled her arm over his shoulders so she could use him as a crutch.

"Thank you...it's going to be a long journey back, eh?" She said sadly, regretting the fact that she had no stimpaks. Charon muttered under his breath.

"Come on Smoothskin...we're done here."

...

Neither had spoken since leaving Dunwich. Viola walked, a deep frown lining her face as she chewed on her lip in frustration. Viola was running over all the possible reasons why Ahzruhkal would have wanted Fairgrieve dead, and she was afraid she'd never know.

"Why would Ahzruhkal want him dead?" She found herself asking, wondering if maybe Ahzruhkal would have told him something and not her.

"You know why Ahzruhkal wanted him dead," Charon said, his face blank.

"And you really think that's the reason he wanted him dead? Because he was trying to figure out a way to create a weapon that ghoulifies humans? No, it's not. Ahzruhkal wasn't getting rid of him as a favour to humanity. I mean, let's break it down, what does Ahzruhkal love the most? You know what, don't answer. He loves bottle caps, his bar, and most importantly, himself. So why would he kill off a man who wasn't effecting any of these things? It must have been what Fairgrieve was about to tell me..."

"Let it go,"

"Why?"

"Because it does not matter now,"

"But-"

"Listen, Smoothskin. I just do what he tells me. He is my employer and I am his employee. I don't even want to know why he does these things, he just does. He is a sick, twisted evil bastard and that's all I need to know," Charon growled, getting tired of the subject. He decided he didn't like her much when she was in this kind of mood, and suddenly he remembered why he liked travelling alone.

She pulled a face at him, and continued chewing on her lip angrily. She had to feel like this man at least somewhat deserved his death. She hissed out a sigh through gritted teeth. It was true, she knew what she was getting herself involved with but she didn't anticipate it would be this hard.

"Right, I'll ask Ahzruhkal why," She said simply, and she saw in the corner of her eye Charon adjust his grip on her wrist.

"No,"

"Why not? She asked. Charon felt his jaw tighten.

"Your ground rules are as flimsy as he said,"

"Excuse me?" She narrowed her eyes, flicking her hair over her shoulder with irritation as a gust of wind blew it into her face. She hadn't found something to tie it up since the Mirelurk attack.

"Smoothskin, take it from someone who has devoted his life to finding loopholes because that's the only God damned purpose he can give himself in life. Your rules have not made you safe. Not by a long shot. The more you agitate him, the more he'll try to find a way to work his way around them, and that is not a difficult task,"

"In what way are my rules 'flimsy'? They were direct and to the point, you can not interpret them!" She growled, feeling her chest tighten.

"Your first rule, for example. There are many ways in which he can technically not touch you but still hurt you. You're defenseless if he decided to go out on a sick whim to hurt you. He's not touching you, the baseball bat is."

"But...he can't touch me," Viola breathed, suddenly feeling short of breath.

"Can't touch you with what, Smoothskin? You didn't define yourself and so you've left a gray area which is open to interpretation."

"And what about my last rule?" She questioned pale faced.

"You only said about killing. That says nothing about maiming and torturing. What if he told you to get Greta to walk over a frag mine. Might not kill her but it'll take her legs off for sure," Charon said, looking at her nearly translucent face.

"God what can I do?" She whispered so her voice didn't tremble. How could she have been so blind and naive? Why did she have to always listen to her irrational side?

"Stay out of his way. Do not aggravate or tempt him. He's a bastard, but he's a clever bastard, if you give him an incentive, he'll figure it out in two seconds,"

"So I'll never know why Fairgrieve is dead?"

Charon had to restrain himself from locking his hands around her throat and shaking sense into her. Her whole wellbeing and the wellbeing of her friends was at stake an all she could think about was a dead ghoul?

He grunted a response. Viola's face hardened.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" She hissed, angry again.

"Ignorance is sometimes bliss,"

"No, ignorance is what gets you and everyone you love slaughtered in the Wasteland! God...God! What do I do...right, we're going to Megaton. It's just up that verge and I have a house there where I keep a safe full of caps in case of emergencies, I'll take the a thousand in there, scavenge for a few weeks and then buy your contract. Damn why didn't I do that before!" She cried, trying to pull Charon in the direction of the metal town.

She felt rough hands arrest her upper arms in an iron grip.

"Charon let me go," She hissed, trying to shuffle away from him but failing.

"Smoothskin. I know Ahzruhkal. Once a contract has been sealed, it's done. He wouldn't accept all the caps in the Wastes now. He wants you and he got you,"

"I can try," She said stubbornly, and tried to move again, cringing when his grip intensified.

"No. I've been ordered that if you try to run away I have to kill you,"

"Oh shit," She snarled, burying her face in her hands. "But I'm not running away I'm-"

"We've done the job and now we_ must_ report to Ahzruhkal." Charon told her, and pulled her along with him as he walked up to the riverside.

Viola bit down on her tongue and tried to reign in her thoughts that were madly scrambling over each other. Eventually one surfaced as she glared into the water.

"Shit, I don't have any Rad X pills. God can this get any fucking worse?" She hissed, her voice wobbling. Charon looked down on her, and although she refused to look up at him she could see her eyes were starting to brim. She really didn't know what she was getting herself into after all. She sniffed, and started to make her way to the water's edge.

"Great, a little bit of radiation sickness is just what I need to cheer me up," She grumbled, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand. Charon muttered something.

"Sorry Big guy, couldn't hear you back there," She sighed, stopping to look over her shoulder at him. Charon scowled at her.

"Come on," He growled stepping over to her. He knelt down to her height and hooked one arm underneath her knees and the other below her shoulders. She let out a surprised squeak as he hauled her off the floor and lifted her into his chest.

"I'm not traveling with someone who needs to stop to throw up every ten minutes...it's bad enough you can't even walk properly" He grumbled, bouncing her up to get a better grip on her.

He waded into the water, carrying her above the touch of the irradiated liquid. Viola looked up at him through grateful eyes and let out a long sigh as she rested her head between his shoulder and neck.

"Thank you," She breathed, shutting her eyes against the bright sun. Charon grumbled inarticulately in response.

...

After buying a stimpaks for her ankle from Dr. Barrows and suffering a scolding lecture, they stood in front of the double doors of the 9th Circle. Viola took in a shaky breath, the awful sense of Deja vu scuttling over her. Charon leaned in to her.

"Remember, do not provoke him," He whispered, though in his husky voice it turned out to be more of a growl. Viola swallowed hard and nodded. She pulled open the door and held it for Charon, trying to hold herself back from glaring daggers at Ahzruhkal who was behind the bar, nodding in pretend understanding to a ghoul who sat on a bar stool whose voice was wobbling.

Ahzruhkal said something to him in a hushed tone, and the ghoul let out a muffled cry and hid his face in his hands, shoulders jerking with silent sobs. A smirk crept across Ahzruhkal's face and he silenced the chuckling that begged to be let out of the back of his throat.

The ghoul across him slid him some caps, and by the time he pitifully peaked out of a gap between his fingers Ahzruhkal's face was once again somber and empathetic as he gave him a bottle of watered down whiskey which the ghoul cradled to his chest, getting up whilst snuffling and necking the entire contents as he shuffled over to a chair in the corner.

Ahzruhkal placed his hands on his hips and he looked up to see Charon marching towards him with Viola in tow. The smirk grew larger.

"And Persephone returns to me, leaving a trail of darkened suns and stretched taught nights behind her to shine a little of summer's light in the shadows of Hades' Underworld." Ahzruhkal sighed, leaning over the bar to get a better look at her.

"Do I really need to ask if Fairegrieve is still breathing?" He continued, tilting his head. Viola held her tongue and looked at Charon to answer. Although it didn't show, her heart was pounding in her chest and she felt her heart was fit to burst straight out of her rib cage.

"I have done as you commanded," Charon replied, voice firm and steady. Ahzruhkal nodded, his smirk relaxing into a content smile.

"Good," Ahzruhkal said, letting out a sigh and gazing across the bar, stopping briefly on the ghoul he was just talking to who had passed out, whiskey bottle still clutched in his hand as he slumped into the chair.

Charon nodded, and moved to his corner in the bar and stood, hands at his side and unmoving. Viola turned on her heels and began to creep away.

"Where do you think you're going, Smoothskin?" Ahzruhkal's voice stopped her dead in her tracks. She turned back around, and tried to smile, though it twisted awkwardly at the ends. Ahzruhkal waited for her to answer, and Viola opened her mouth but for all the things she could tell him her thoughts knotted in her head, the only one that managed to pull itself free was the irrational voice telling her to run.

She laughed nervously and ended up shrugging.

"I...er...it's been a long trip so I was going to go to Carol and Greta's and..." She couldn't even stop herself from cringing as she saw Ahzruhkal's face freeze when she mentioned his competitors names.

"Or I could just stay here on duty with Charon. That'd work too, right?" She burst out so quickly she was surprised she didn't stumble over the words.

Ahzruhkal barked out a laugh, straightening himself out and walking round the bar to stand painfully close to her.

"When did you become a bouncer?" He mocked, his faded yellow teeth grinning at her.

"Whenever you want me to be...sir," She replied as calmly as she could, avoiding his eyes and looking at the floor. Ahzruhkal put his hands behind his back, swaying slightly on his feet, Charon glared at him from the corner, and saw his hands slip into his pockets, pulling out a pair of pre war leather gloves. Charon felt his breath quicken before he swiftly suppressed it back to its usual rate.

He felt something move in his stomach and the muscles in his face stiffen as he watched as Ahzruhkal slid them on, staring at Viola who shuffled uncomfortably under his eyes. Charon severed the strings of the emotions that tried to claw themselves into his chest. He could revive them later if needed, but for now, he painted Viola to be a stranger, and not the girl that treated him like a human being, or the girl that was putting herself through hell to help him. He felt himself lapse into the numbness of detachment the institution had made open to him, and for once, he thanked everything that was holy that this option was available.

"Look at me," Ahzruhkal ordered, and Viola hesitated for a second longer that she should have.

Ahzruhkal lunged forward, grasping her face in his hand and pulling her up onto her toes. Viola bit back a yelp, and had to pull herself up a little on his forearm so the pressure on her face wasn't too painful. She glared up at him.

"Better," He smirked, leaning in so close Viola tried to pull away. Ahzruhkal held her in place and in panic, before she could even think, the instinct to lash out consumed her.

She violently pulled back and shifted her weight back onto her back leg with her fist raised. As she swung she felt Charon's arm lock itself over her neck, trapping the air in her throat and slamming it shut whilst grabbing her wrist in his fist and pulling it behind her back. She hissed, but let Charon pull her back, thankful he wasn't being as rough as he could be.

"Oh, so you think now you've spent a little time with him he won't stop you hurting me do you? Oh that's sweet. But you know, regardless of my expressed commands if Charon can see that I am in _any_ form of danger he must protect me." He purred, running a hand through her tangled hair and she fought the urge to snap her head upwards and sink her teeth into his half rotten flesh.

"Even if I ordered him to kill me he couldn't. The all consuming contract overrides my own commands. It's why I can't hurt him. Any violence on my behalf shown towards him invalidates the contract," He told her, grinning. She twisted her head away from him into Charon's bicep and glared, refusing to make eye contact in a poor attempt at defiance.

Ahzruhkal grinned, and clicked his fingers.

Suddenly she felt the weight around her neck relax and the grip on her wrist intensify as Charon flung her forward before sharply yanked her back into him, conjuring the desired sickening snap of her fragile wrist. In shock she only managed to let out a choke as she collapsed to the floor, cradling her broken wrist to her stomach.

She glared up at Ahzruhkal who stood above her, smiling softly and almost angelically.

"Oh now don't look at me like that. I didn't hurt you now did I? Charon did..._and he can do it again._"

"Not him. You. It was you, you bastard!" She snarled, and through his cloud of self induced detachment he felt the urge to cringe.

He'd told her not to fuck with him.

Ahzruhkal looked to Charon and flicked him a tight nod.

Charon shifted his leg back and slammed a kick into her stomach with such a force it nearly made her gag. She felt herself naturally curl up, gripping her chest and holding her injured wrist above her head so as to not accidently push it against anything.

"Stand up," Ahzruhkal commanded.

Viola started to move, and felt herself stumble on wobbling legs. Ahzruhkal nodded to Charon again.

Charon flung his hand out, arresting her broken wrist in his bone crushing grip and making her half scream half yell through gritted teeth as he hauled her to her feet.

He cursed himself for wearing bandages over his hands. He wouldn't be able to touch her if she wasn't trying to hurt Ahzruhkal.

He released her wrist and she snapped it back to her like an elastic band, afraid he might grab it again. She was shaking now, a mix of adrenaline and fear as she focused on trying not to fall off balance. She let out a shivering sigh, her arms curled into her chest protectively. The patrons of the bar had now either fled or moved to the sides of the room, as far away as possible yet close enough to see. Ahzruhkal clucked his tongue.

"Wasn't quick enough. You see, from my employees I demand respect," He nodded at Charon who grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked it back, holding her in place.

"And I demand every order I make be followed with enthusiasm and _joy_...do you understand?" He purred, cupping her face in his hands as she shuddered in revulsion. She tried to nod, and mentally cursed herself when she found Charon was holding her too tight for that. She already predicted the punishment.

Ahzruhkal nodded to Charon again who spun her round, launched a fist into her face, popping her lip and spun her back in a full circle to stare into Ahzruhkal's mocking face.

"Do I need to ask again?"

"No..." She wheezed, dropping her eyes before snatching them back up again in case he still demanded eye contact.

"Then answer..._now_."

"I understand," She managed, cringing as the taste of her own metalic blood filled her mouth. Ahzruhkal looked at Charon, and smiled. Charon let her go, and Viola fell forward, having to steady herself on Ahzruhkal so she didn't fall. She prayed that it wasn't a punishable offense.

Ahzruhkal smiled lightly and helped prop her up, taking her waist in his hands and pulling her into him. Viola stopped herself from spitting the blood that was pooling at the bottom of her mouth into the bastard's face. Her arms were still tucked into her chest and was pressing against Ahzruhkal's body. The smell of tobacco and whiskey oozed from his breath that came out choppy as he snickered.

He leaned in so their faces were only centimeters apart and he ran a hand up the side of her body, up her neck until it reached her mouth, not breaking eye contact for a second. He wiped his thumb over the split in her lower lip that dribbled a steady flow of blood. He kept his thumb over her lips and kissed it with his dry, cracked lips, pulling away to grin at her with her blood seeping between his yellowed teeth as it ran through the gap in his lips. He smirked, flashed her a wink, dug his thumb into the wound making her hiss in pain and pulled away.

He strolled back behind his bar and slammed his fists on the table, making the whole room with the exception of Charon jump.

"I want you kids up and early tomorrow, ol' Uncle Ahzruhkal has another job for the two of you," and with that he dipped his head and stalked away.

_..._

_Yay Ahzruhkal's back! Being a massive wanker like he's always been... Damn I love writing villains, they're so fun. Special thanks to guest reviewer! I really loved your review, in fact it's why this chapter's so long, I wanted to give you your dose of old Uncle Ahzruhkal early for being so kind and awesome. I appreciate all follows, reviews and favorites, I can't tell you how much I love reading reveiws! Thank you for everything chaps._


	9. Rumour has it

Viola ran down the stairs of Underworld, stumbling on her own feet and clasping the banister as she nearly went head first down the steps. She regained her footing and when she reached the bottom she felt her legs buckle beneath her and she collapsed.

She fumbled for a stimpak and when she found it jammed it into her wrist, letting out a shuddering sigh as it began to mend the bone. She thanked whichever doctor who had produced stimpaks with all her heart and felt herself slump forward, shoulders sagging as she began tentatively turning her wrist to make sure it healed right. She should have went to Barrows. She was already feeling a dull ache creep into her bone, but she didn't want to bother Barrows or Graves again. Besides, she didn't have the caps for it.

She decided she wouldn't waste another stimpak to heal her split lip and put a finger to it, flinching as it stung her. Her only consolation was that if Charon had really wanted to hit her he would have broke her jaw.

"Charcoal?" Winthrop stood in shock in front of her, mouth hanging open.

She smiled and winced as her lip let out another sting of pain as the tissue stretched.

"Hey Winthrop."

"We're going to the Chop Shop," He told her, helping her up.

"No, Winthrop-" She cut in. "We're not going to bother them, I've already healed most of it. I just bleed a lot...I have thin blood," She laughed and tried to wipe away the red liquid from her lip, only succeeding in smearing it across her face.

"Come on, I'll get that cleaned up...it doesn't need stitches, does it?"

"I don't think so...I've never had a split lip before."

"I'll clean it up, then we'll see. Promise me you'll get it stitched if it needs it though."

"Why bother?"

"You humans don't appreciate looks until you've lost them," Winthrop sighed.

"I wish people would stop saying that. Differentiating ghouls and humans I mean. It's not like there is a massive biological difference. You're just humans who have suffered from an ungodly dose of radiation. Any biological difference between ghouls and humans should be considered as an affliction or ailment of radiation sickness at worse," She explained shaking her head.

"You really did come out of a vault, didn't you? To be able to think like that, act like we're all the same and we're all intrinsically good creatures that can not only co-exist but get along,"

"We _are_ the same Winthrop. And I get along with you, right?"

"Yes, but you are mental."

"Why do people keep saying that?"

"I can't bring myself to imagine why," He chuckled, unlocking the door to his room and letting her in, closing it behind her and shuffling over to a metal box where he pulled out some clean rags and a bottle of purified water.

He gestured to the bed and she sat down awkwardly on the end. He tore the rag in two pieces, and soaked the one in the water then crouched down in front of her the way her dad use to when she was younger.

"Okay, stay still," He said, gently dabbing at the wound making her wince. "Sorry."

"That's okay."

"I said hold still," Winthrop replied.

Content that he'd wiped away most of the blood, he ripped a smaller piece off of the dry cloth and held it against her lip, by the time he took his hand away the cloth remained stuck to her lip, the blood seeping into it making it cling to her flesh like a makeshift plaster.

"Okay, if it bleeds through that, I'm counting it as serious and I'm dragging you to Barrows," He said, getting up and sitting next to her. "So what was it about the vault that made you so friendly towards ghouls, huh?" Winthrop smiled, and Viola laughed.

"Do you really want to know what happened when I first saw a ghoul? I...God this is embarrassing...I, er, screamed and ran over to him flapping my arms like a demented crow, yelling out for people to help him. Yes, yes, I know, people in Megaton still take the piss out of me for it now, but I seriously thought the guy was injured or something. Don't look at me like that he was behind a bar, he could have been in a kitchen fire or something! Okay, I know it was over the top but I'd never seen someone like that before, okay? You guys didn't appear in my Pre war books, alright? I thought he was hurt and since he wasn't rolling on the floor in agony looking like he was knocking on death's door I thought he was savable," She continued to fight her corner whilst Winthrop laughed at her.

"So, you going to tell me how you ended up in this state?" He said, gesturing to her lip. Viola stopped smiling and shrugged.

"Take a guess."

"Charon?"

"What? No! I...technically yes but it was _Ahzruhkal_ who ordered him to." She told him sternly before feeling a cold shudder descend down her spine as she thought of Ahzruhkal grinning at her with her blood over his lips and in his mouth.

"I thought you'd told him he couldn't get people to hurt you?" Winthrop questioned.

"No...I ordered him not to touch me or have anyone else touch me but that was it. Apparently that's too vague and so it's not him that's touching me, it's his gloves, and it wasn't Charon who was hitting me, it was the material on his hands. You know how he bandages them up like old boxers use to to get support on the knuckles," She sighed, her lip throbbing as she remembered his fist colliding with her face.

"For my sake, stay out of Ahzruhkal's way? I don't want to give myself a heart attack worrying about you,"

"I'll try. I've really got to go now Winthrop, I need to find a place to sleep, Ahzruhkal demands us to be up early tomorrow, sending us out on another God forsaken goose chase. I don't have the caps for a bed, and I'm not mooching off of poor Carol again, she's far too kind to me."

"So where are you going?"

"I don't know, probably curl up behind the front desk or something,"

"Smoothskin, You're sleeping here,"

"What?"

"I'll sleep later, you take my bed," He said, getting up.

"No, Winthrop, no," She said getting up with him and turning him round by the shoulders.

"Hey, you know me and Greta have a thing going on right? She'll set me up, trust me," He grinned, giving her a pat on the shoulder and a warm smile before leaving.

Viola eased herself back onto the bed and lay down, staring up at the ceiling that was blackened in the corner where the damp was seeping through. She felt a crushing loneliness cave in on her.

She missed her dad...and she'd put off finding him at Vault 112 for _this_. She laughed out loud, the noise ringing out until it shuddered to sobs. She buried her face in her hands and shut her eyes, falling asleep before she even realised how tired she was.

...

"Smoothskin..._Smoothskin_?" Viola heard a voice tug her out of her dreamless sleep and woke to see Charon, arms folded across his chest and blank faced.

She let out a groan and stretched, rubbing her eyes as she hesitantly pulled herself into sitting position.

"Do we need to go see the bastard now?" She sighed heavily, feeling dread pool in her stomach like tar. Charon didn't reply and held something out to her in his hand. Viola looked down and saw him holding a Stimpak out towards her.

"What's that for?" She asked, hauling herself off the bed.

"Your lip,"

"Oh it's not that bad, really, I'm sure it looks worse that what it actually is. It's just a little sore now." A little sore was an understatement, she could still feel every pulse of blood that came with an aching pang of pain.

She looked into the reflection of her Pipboy and couldn't help but inhale sharply through gritted teeth at the sight. Her lip had swollen more than twice its natural size, her skin was purple and burst blood vessels were visible beneath the transparent surface of her eery white skin.

"Here," Charon said, holding out a stimpak. Viola's eyes widened before softening, a little chuckle escaped her lips.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." He replied watching her little hands reach up and take the stimpaks, the warmth of her hands gently brushing his charred skin.

"The same but a little different, huh?" She smiled, thinking of the first time they met when it was her giving him a stimpak.

He moved to rub the back of his neck, lifting up his hand, and felt his chest crush under the weight of guilt when he saw her whole body tense as she flinched away. He cut the feeling dead, and from its ashes he felt a new emotion burn through. _Hate._

Hate for Ahzruhkal, hate for the institution and then hate for himself. He openly cringed as he tried to rein in the emotions that had begun to blaze in his chest. He had_ finally_ met a person who had treated him like another human being and Ahzruhkal had made her fear him. He couldn't help but wonder if that show back in the bar was just a malicious way of further isolating him from human interaction and more importantly from her, if it was all a premeditated plot to further fuck with him. He began to slash down these emotions, feeling the dull, mundane feeling of apathy drain into his body like a drug, painfully reminding himself that feelings came to no good.

Suddenly he felt something else. Despite his perfect physical control, he heard a gasp, and it didn't come from Viola. He felt small, slim arms wrapped around his waist, and her soft face buried gently in his chest. She shook with effort as she tried to hold back her tears.

"I'm so sorry," She whispered again and again, her tiny body crushed against his. Charon stood motionless, arms locked to his sides in confusion.

"Please, forgive me," her voice broke and she let out a sob, her back shuddering with a torrent of tears.

"For what?" Charon asked awkwardly, looking down on her little, wobbling figure.

"For flinching like that, as if you were a..." She swallowed.

"You do not need to say sorry to me," He said shortly. His thoughts scrambled over each other, screaming at him to do something, say something comforting, but nothing surfaced. He didn't even remember how to hug someone back.

"Why shouldn't I say sorry to you?"

"Because you do not need to."

"Yes I do,"

"No," He said sharply, pulling away from her.

Her face was red, her lips swollen and the charcoal on her face had ran so she looked like a badly painted marionette puppet. It would have been comical if the situation was different.

"Why?" She breathed, feeling like her chest had been hollowed out.

"We need to go," He said, turning on his heels and reaching to open the door.

"Charon tell me what you're thinking! I'm not a mind reader! Do you remember on the first day I met you? I told you to tell me what you think! Did he order you not to speak your mind or something?" She hissed, grabbing his arm to stop him leaving.

"No," He said, with his back still facing her. She managed to spin him round and stared at him.

"Charon, listen to me. You are a human being. You have emotions, you have thoughts, feelings and opinions and I know you do, because I can see it. You don't have to speak for me to understand. I know what they've done to you, they tried to make you nothing more than an object at least and a weapon at best. But you are not the machine, Charon. _They_ are. With their cold mechanical hearts and minds! How can you not see that? _How_?"

She lifted her hands to his face , and he had to stop himself jolting when she gently pulled his head down to her level to try and get his attention.

"Tell me who has done this to you?" She pleaded, and Charon only just managed to conceal the shock on his face when he saw her eyes were welling again.

"Why do you care?" He found himself asking calmly, frozen rigid.

"I've already told you! God, don't you listen!?" She hissed before letting out an exasperated laugh.

"At first I cared because that's how I was brought up. The fact that I could help meant I ought to help. But now I care because it's you Charon. We're a team, and we always will be so long as I continue to live."

Charon felt a migraine begin stabbing at his brain. He simply couldn't understand her...he just couldn't even begin to. He straightened his back, pulling his head away from her and grumbled inaudably. He tried to think of a reply, but his thoughts ran dry.

She turned her back to him, and injected the stimpaks sighing in relief when the wound stitched itself back together and the swelling went down so only an ugly purple bruise remained. She turned back, and opened the door.

"Come on, we need to go," She sighed sadly.

Charon pulled her back and slammed the door, and Viola spun to face him with wide eyes.

"...I find it difficult to articulate my thoughts. I tend to kill any unwanted emotions before they have time to surface and affect me. The... Institution taught me emotion is weakness, and so forced me so suppress emotions so I could achieve optimum efficiency when doing my job. Killing," He said, uncomfortable in the foreign situation.

"The institution?" She breathed, light thin eyebrows knitting together.

"...Yes. I can not tell you what it is. Only my employer can command me to tell them," He explained.

Viola's lips pulled into an o shape, and she nodded.

"When do we have to see Ahzruhkal?" She asked quietly.

"He asked me to bring you to him. Although he did not specify what time." He replied, earning a cheeky grin from Viola.

"I love how you find loopholes."

"As do I."

Viola chuckled and smiled, feeling relief wash over her when no stinging pain from her split lip screamed at her. She looked down to his bare hands.

"Thank you," She said, pointing towards his unwrapped hands.

"This way if he wants me to hit you it won't be on a whim. It'll take me too long to bandage them up again in order for me to do so."

"Great...I'm still asking him about Fairgrieve,"

"_What_?"

"I'm not letting the bastard think just because he threw his weight around I'm just going to bend to his will. I've dealt with bullies before,"

"Not with ones that could do what he has in mind,"

"Charon, if I submit now without a fight things are going to get worse...a lot worse,"

"I'm telling you do_ not_ piss him off,"

"And I'm telling you that I will not let him think he owns me!"

"He does, Viola. For now he owns you. Just as he owns me,"

"You might not be able to retaliate, but I can and I will,"

"Why are you being so stubborn?" He growled. He felt like strangling some sense into her, felt like screaming in her face until his throat was hoarse that he didn't want to hurt her again.

"Charon, it's my decision. I won't openly confront him. I'll ask. Politely, as difficult as that will be...with tact. It's just something I need to know."

Charon said nothing, but continued to glare at her.

"I warned you," Charon rumbled after a silence, turning on his heels and marching out of the room, Viola following suit.

...

"Ah, there you are. Took you a while, you remember what I told you about punctuality, yes?" He snickered from his usual spot behind the bar.

"Yes Ahzruhkal, apologies," Viola forced herself to say as submissively as she could. Ahzruhkal beamed.

"So, where was my little kitten hiding? No doubt licking her wounds?" He mocked, addressing Charon and ignoring her completely. Viola strained to remain composed.

"Winthrop's room," He said bluntly, and Viola cringed at the way it seemed to come across.

"Oh yes, I heard someone mention you paid a little visit to our dear old friend Winthrop...I wonder what the pair of you could have been getting up to..." He chuckled, cocking his head to the side, and Viola couldn't contain her blush.

"Oh now don't blush, Persephone, it's perfectly natural," He sneered and Viola curled her little hands up into fists.

"Nothing happened," She told him, struggling to keep control of her voice.

"That's not what the rest of Underworld is wheezing about today."

"What?" Viola spat.

"Seems like you have quite the affinity for ghouls, don't you?"

"No more or less that ordinary people," Viola told him plainly, eyelid twitching in frustration.

"Greta won't be impressed..."

"Nothing happened!" Viola hissed, her voice raised. She noted Charon cleared his throat, and took it as a warning to keep her voice level when speaking to Ahzruhkal.

"Not a commonly held belief..." Ahzruhkal purred, his smile curling at the edges.

"He left before I was even there long enough for anything!" She protested.

"Not what i've heard."

Viola mentally swore. Perhaps she'd lost track of time, now she looked back, she was in there with him for at least an hour as they talked and he patched her up. Viola refused to enter into an argument with him, she'd already noticed he was still wearing his black leather gloves.

"Oh I've been told plenty of things about what people heard outside the door on their way past..."

"Like what exactly, Ahzruhkal? Us talking? Because that's what happened," She said as calmly as she could.

"Hushed tones...sighing, choppy breaths and hissing...Persephone you really aren't as innocent as you look are you?" He chuckled.

"He was patching me up after what you did to me! Nothing happened!" She snapped angrily, wondering who the hell was spreading shit about her.

"And then you and Charon took so long getting back here..."Ahzruhkal pondered, watching with satisfaction as Viola got more and more frustrated.

"You got into Snowball's stash of Jet, Ahzruhkal? I knew you dealt but I didn't know you took the shit yourself." Ahzruhkal let out a loud burst of laughter which ended in a long wheeze.

"You're developing yourself quite the reputation down here..." Ahzruhkal grinned, stopping to listen to the usual schpiel Three Dog spouts on about on his radio.

"Another update on our knight in shining Vault suit, little Miss 101. Looks like that loony lass from Vault 101's been busy lately, this time systematically executing some of the Wasteland's most colorful characters. What's the deal, 101? Maybe I'll just ask around Underworld, hmmm? Cause a little irradiated birdy told me you've been spending some serious time down in ghoulville. Haven't you got things to be doing, and more importantly, people to be finding?"

Viola felt herself go rigid. Perfect timing, Three Dog...fucking perfect timing. How was it that as soon as she gets her gun out and shoots a few people who deserve it, Three Dog knows about it as if he were there? More importantly what did spending time down in Underworld had anything to do with it?

Ahzruhkal looked up from the radio, grin even wider.

"Did you speak to Three Dog?" Viola hissed, her voice threatingly low.

"I don't know what you mean..." Ahzruhkal blinking softly at her, looking nothing less than angelic and innocent.

"You know what, I don't care. Say what you want, Ahzruhkal...after all it is all about _you_, isn't it? The whole fucking planet revolves around you...it's all the big Uncle Ahzruhkal sitcom and we're all just your fucking little co starts aren't we? Parading around, jumping through hoops and leaping over hurdles just for shits and giggles. Well guess what Ahzruhkal? I don't care what you say or think. I'm just here to grit my teeth, get through this shit and leave with Charon. I don't even care that you have this little, petty obsession of fantasising about me screwing ghouls. Let me say this slow a loud enough for you to understand. I. Could not. Give. A shit," Viola felt the steam of her rant wear down, and as she stared into his frozen, set smiling corpse like face, she couldn't decide whether he was going to laugh or launch himself across the table to tear her tongue out of her mouth. Ahzruhkal straightened up, chuckling in genuine amusement.

"I don't think it's a fantasy when it's really happening, sweetheart. Trust me, enough people have told me about what happened last night, and no doubt more will come to tell me about why you and Charon took so damn long getting up here,"

"Just ask Charon if you want the truth!" Viola yelled a little louder than she intended.

"I much prefer using my imagination," He sighed, running a tongue over his yellowed teeth and leaning over the bar.

"You're a vile man Ahzruhkal," Viola growled, folding her arms across her chest. She hated the way he looked at her as though he could see right through her armor to the flesh beneath.

"I think you'll find I'm rather quite fun,"

"In which reality? The one the rest of us experience or the freak show that plays in your own twisted little head?"

"Both,"

"Tell me why you killed Fairgrive," Viola demanded.

Charon could have slapped his palm over his face. Is this what she called politely and tactfully?

"No," Ahzruhkal chuckled, resting his chin on his hands.

"Tell me!"

"Why?"

"I already know half of it, just tell me the rest! You left the vault, you murdered Tripfall, you were left alone with Fairgrieve...what happened?" She nearly snarled, her heart hammering with adrenaline.

"How was Fairgrieve? Still a little mentally unhinged? I wouldn't believe a word he says,"

"Tell me...please,"

"Do me a favour," He smirked.

"That really depends on what the favour is Ahzruhkal,"

"Oh, don't worry...it's nothing really..."

"What is it?"

"I want you to go down into the cellars of Underworld at 9 pm, unarmed, and on your own,"

"Why?" She asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Well do you want to know why I wanted Fairegrieve dead, or why I want you to do what I'm asking now?" Viola folded her arms and scowled, biting her lip in frustration.

"And then what?"

"Nothing. Just go in there for one minute, and come out whenever you like after that,"

"What's the catch?"

"Do you want to know the answer to that or to why I wanted Fairgrieve dead?"

"Fine. I'll do it."

"There's a good girl," Ahzruhkal snickered. "You are dismissed...for now. Remember, I want that doing _tonight_."

Viola looked at Charon, back to Ahzruhkal, nodded, and left.

Ahzruhkal let out a ringing laugh and opened up a bottle of whiskey, swigging it from the bottle and wiping his mouth. Charon gritted his teeth, and waited for Ahzruhkal's orders.

"Thing's are starting to look up, Charon," He smirked, resting an elbow on the bar. "Oh yes...I_ always_ get what I want..."

Charon stood motionless, blinking slowly.

"Keep an eye on her, Charon. I don't want her diverting from the plan,"

"I will do as you command," Charon answered robotically, and marched out of the 9th Circle, feeling Ahzruhkal's eyes burn into his back all the way out.

...

_You'll find out next chapter what sneaky ol' Ahzruhkal is plotting, it will all make sense. Massive thanks to **LostOne1775, **your review made me laugh, I've already thought about the events that occur just before his death and what's going to be said, but not actually how he is to die yet, so who knows, maybe he will get his comeuppance. _


	10. Always

Charon stepped through the door into Snowflake's makeshift barber shop, happy to do anything that didn't involve standing in a corner and growling at potential problem customers.

Ahzruhkal had stopped him just before opening the double doors earlier, quickly telling him that after 9:00 pm he was not permitted to use any violence until ordered to do otherwise. Since then he hadn't been able to stop thinking about the strange command. He'd never been ordered to_ not_ be violent before, and he couldn't figure out the reason for it.

He ground to a halt as he saw three Underworld residents and Snowflake surrounding someone on the barber chair, a strange noise filling the air; laughter.

Charon took a step closer to where he could clearly see Viola, laughing along with the other ghouls as Snowflake buried his face in her hair which he had piled up on top of her head.

"God I miss hair...you have so much _hair_!" Snowflake muffled from beneath the heaped up blonde locks.

"Run while you still can Smoothskin, looks like you've made a friend for life," The shortest ghoul chuckled.

Viola grinned and looked up, spotting Charon in the middle of the room. Her smile grew wider.

"Hey Charon, get over here. Snowflake's cutting my hair for free!" She beamed. Snowflake, still with his face lost in her thick hair, giggled euphorically.

"Are you sure that is what he is doing?"

"Awh come on Big guy, join the party!" She laughed, frantically waving her hand for him to come closer.

The other three ghouls, one a regular at the bar who he could actually name, Quinn, shuffled nervously. Charon bared his teeth at them, and they exchanged worried glances.

"Don't mind him, he just get's grouchy," Viola smiled, and the three ghouls returned her smile although less enthusiastically.

"You realise he is high on jet?"

"I trust him,"

"Is that wise?"

"Nope." She laughed, shuffling in excitement.

"So...er...Charon. What are you doing out here?" Quinn questioned after plucking up the courage to talk.

Charon said nothing and glared at him.

"So, what you having done Smoothskin? I can do anything you want, anything at all," Snowflake asked breaking the awkward silence.

"Just a trim please, Snowflake,"

"Are you sure? Really I can do anything,"

"Yeah, I cut it once to just under my chin and hated it, I have a round enough face as it is,"

"Fine," Snowflake said grumpily as he began snipping at the ends.

Viola let out a long sigh and slumped into the wooden chair. The three ghouls said their quick goodbyes and shuffled out, eyeing Charon suspiciously as they moved around him to get to the exits.

Once Snowflake was done Viola shook her hair out and brushed the chopped off split ends from her shoulders, thanking the ghoul who placed down his scissors.

"Here, I heard you lost yours," Snowflake said, handing her a hair faster. Viola let out a little squeak of happiness and flung her arms around the old ghoul.

"Thank you! Do you realise how hard it is to find these in the Wastes? I've been so sick of having it flap about all the time," She beamed at him a toothy smile and looked to Charon.

"What are you doing here, Big guy? Not that I'm complaining, but usually Ahzruhkal has you chained to the corner of that damned bar," She said, saying Ahzruhkal's name with a spit of disgust.

Charon hesitated. Ahzruhkal didn't tell him not to tell her.

"He ordered me to keep an eye on you," He told her, folding his arms over his chest.

"Oh, how sweet...he's such a caring gentleman, isn't he?" She said dreamily before making herself heave. The corner of Charon's lip twitched up in a smile before disappearing as quickly as it appeared.

Viola said goodbye to Snowflake who had been watching them converse with curious eyes, left the room and stepped into the hallway and leaned over the banister watching the residents below.

"Do you know why Ahzruhkal wants me to go into the lower halls of the museum?"

"I do not,"

"I mean, at such a specific time, too..." she breathed, frowning.

Charon shrugged his large shoulders before catching the eye of a female ghoul who walked past, suspiciously running her eyes over the two figures who stood together. He shot her a shudder inducing glare and she quickly averted her eyes, quickening her pace.

"People keep staring at me..." Viola said wincing as she spotted a ghoul staring at her before snatching his stare away. Charon grumbled. It wasn't surprising with the talk that was going around, no doubt being fueled by Ahzruhkal's lies.

"I swear to God I'm going to kill Ahzruhkal," She growled watching a couple of male ghouls in the corner exchange hushed words, occasionally glancing over to her.

They heard stumbling footfalls on the stairs and looked over to see Patchwork drunkenly shuffling up towards them. He took two steps forward, then one backwards, then continued onwards, bumping into the corner of the banister and muttering an apology to it. He stumbled up to Viola, stopping just short of head butting her in the face. He stood, a spaced out smile on his falling apart lips and swaying. Viola raised an eyebrow.

"So, I er...wait...have you seen...no, that's not, not right. So, I hear you're, er, fucking ghouls now,"

"Oh fucking fantastic..."

"And then he said...no...yes...what?"

"Oh just do us all a favour and fuck off Patches," Viola growled at the ghoul who continued smiling as he shuffled away humming. Charon glanced over at her as she scowled after Patchwork.

"Do I need to scream that I didn't fuck you or Winthrop from the top of the Washington monument? I will if I fucking have to," Viola hissed, stomping downstairs with Charon following after her, baring his teeth occasionally to passers by.

As Viola paced up to Tulip's shop, she heard a group of four ghouls huddled up on a bench stop speaking and turn to stare at her. She frowned at them and continued on. She stopped. Then she turned on her heels and strode up to them.

"Have you got something to say?" Viola questioned, hands on her hips and biting her lip in frustration.

The three shyer ghouls shook their head rapidly, but the tallest one, a ghoul who had dark hair sneered.

"So, how much did Winthrop pay you?"

"_What_?" Viola spat, feeling her head pound in rage.

"Do I need to repeat myself, Smoothskin?"

"No, I'm giving you time for your brain to catch up with your mouth," She hissed.

The ghoul barked out a laugh on the other three ghouls exchanged awkward glances.

"I'm sorry about my friend, he's got a bit too much vodka in him...you'd like him if he was sober," The ghoul to his right said quickly, trying to make amends for his friends' behavior.

"Right," She said sharply, her lips tightening into a thin line. Charon stepped to her side, arms at his side whilst he clenched and unclenched his hands.

"Oh, of course, I almost forgot you had another_ friend_," The dark haired ghoul mocked, running his eyes over Charon who stared blankly at him.

"Strider come on," Another of the ghouls begged before grabbing him by the arm and whispering a little too loudly, "You should know not to fuck around with Charon,"

"Well she didn't, did she?"

Viola felt her eyelid twitch. Her teeth clenched and she launched a punch square into the sneering ghoul's face. The ghoul fell back off the bench, and knocked his head off the ground. He didn't get up.

Two of his friends dragged the unconscious ghoul away heading towards the Chop Shop, yelling abuse at Viola who bared her teeth at them. She turned around and before she could see it coming a ghoul had threw a fist into her face, grazing her cheek and making her spin to the floor. The world around her juttered like an old movie screen to black.

Charon grabbed the attacker by the throat and flung him back, raising his fists as the ghoul shuddered with a coughing fit. Viola jerked back to reality, and drew herself up slowly, rubbing her cheek and scowling at the ghoul who punched her.

"Fucking bitch! Got your guard dog to protect you?" He snarled.

"It's not my fault your little friend wouldn't leave me alone. And I can fight my own battles," Viola hissed and ghoul sneered out a laugh.

"Looks like it," He laughed and Viola took a step forward.

The ghoul did too and Charon stepped between them, staring down the much shorter ghoul, his stony face unmoving. The ghoul let out another wheezing laugh to cover the new sense of unease he got from the piercing stare of Charon.

"See you round, Smoothskin," He winked, and walked towards the Chop Shop.

"I fucking hate this," Viola hissed, her head pounding as she tentatively touched her fingers to her cheek.

"You have to learn to control your emotions," Charon told her sternly.

"I know, I shouldn't let it get to me...but I actually like people down here. I mean seriously, I haven't felt more at home since leaving the vault, if Ahzruhkal was to drop dead one day then it would be perfect. And now just because of some idiots who don't know how to keep their mouths shut I'm the odd one out again. The one people stare at and talk about,"

"You were the odd one out before this, human."

"Yeah, but at least that was just looks, and people soon got over that." She sighed, slumping down onto the bench besides Charon.

"I guess it's because this place is for outcasts. For those who don't really belong anywhere else. Everywhere I go, I'm belittled and shunned for being a naive little vault girl. The Vault didn't want me, the Wasteland didn't want me...this was the only place that didn't care where I came from or where I was going. And now...well, I don't know. But if someone brings it up again I swear to God, they'll be more than one knocked out dick head on the floor."

Charon nodded as he watched her hold her head which was throbbing in pain. He made a quick mental note for the future when she would be his employer that although she could deal out a powerful punch, she clearly couldn't take one. He snorted. It was lucky he only punched her lightly before. He could probably kill her in one blow if he felt like it.

"Come on, I'm getting something to eat at Carol's before the freak show commences," Viola grumbled, abandoning her trip to Tulip's and shuffling back upstairs, this time ignoring the glances she got of the residents of Underworld.

...

"So, This is it?" She asked Charon, staring skeptically at the double doors before looking back at the archaic, dust gathering skeleton and mammoth in the hall behind her.

"I'll be outside. It's 9 O'clock now. Go in," Charon told her, a slight tone of urgency in his voice.

He had to make sure she went in at the specified time. If she didn't, she'd have disobeyed Ahzruhkal and he would be forced to kill her.

"Okay, wish me luck...just a minute right?" She laughed, handing him her shotgun and Chinese Assault rifle. She took a breath, and as quietly as she could, opened up a gap in the door and squeezed through, reminding Charon of how she first entered the 9th circle. Charon realised with a start that that was only two days ago. It felt like it had been weeks.

She disappeared, the door shutting without a noise. Viola squinted in the darkness, her eyes struggling to adjust to the new lighting. She made out strange shapes, a couple of staircases leading to an upper floor. Ruined and decaying artifacts and columns lay around her, once valued but now laid to rest underneath the city of Underworld.

In the darkness she saw her own breath billow out of her lungs as she rubbed her arms roughly to warm up down in the chilling air. After a while had passed she looked at her Pipboy. Thirty seconds. This wasn't so bad. She shrugged and let out a long sigh. Maybe she was worrying about nothing after all. Then she heard a gargle.

She pushed herself against the double doors in shock, eyes grown twice their natural size as she desperately tried to see what was making the noise. Then a few more scramblings were heard above her head. Something limped out of the shadows, joined by another wobbling figure that let a long drone of a hiss out of the gaping hole filled with shards of broken rotted teeth that once resembled a human mouth. Viola froze.

She watched them stumble forwards, smelling the air and breathing in her human scent. She tore her terror filled stare from the figures to look at the time. Ten more seconds. She held her breath. The one began scuffling towards her, still smelling the air. Viola felt her chest restrict painfully and she began to feel sick. It let out a snarl and sprinted towards her, flailing arms ready to tear at her skin.

She let out a sharp yelp and ducked away from the arms of the first feral only to hammer into the second, which crunched it's teeth down into her hand, the flesh giving away like butter. She snarled out and slammed the feral biting into her hand into the other, making it release its jaws around her hand long enough for her to pull away.

She heard more inhuman screeches above her and the patter of dozens of feet. How many were there down here? It didn't matter. The time was up and she was getting out of there.

She ripped open the doors and sprinted through, but before she had time to spin around and slam them shut, the two ghouls leapt out and tackled her to the floor. Through the sound of their snarls she heard the door slam shut, Charon swearing as he locked it behind her.

"Smoothskin?" Greta called over from the steps leading up to Underworld, mouth hanging open and dropping her cigarette.

Viola managed to kick one ghoul off her which suddenly lost attention in her and ran towards something else, but Viola was more concerned with the ghoul that was raking it's fingernail against the soft flesh of her face. She scrunched her eyes shut as it moved to gouge them out of her sockets. She slammed her fists into its face but it didn't budge.

"Charon my gun! My gun!" She screamed, reaching out one hand whilst trying to tear of the ghoul's hands from her exposed flesh.

Charon flew forward quicker than a dart, jamming the Chinese assault rifle into her hands, feeling utterly obsolete as he looked on helplessly. Any kind of violence would be in violation of Ahzruhkal's demands.

Viola let out a howl of triumph as she managed to jam the barrel of the rifle into the ghoul's face, pulling the trigger and watching it's head explode, throwing blood in all directions. She scrambled to her feet, and before she could look up, she heard a scream that would make even battle hardened soldiers shudder.

The second feral ghoul in its frenzy had charged into Greta who fell back, cracking her head open on the concrete steps. Viola let out a mortified scream. She aimed her gun and blew the creatures head to bits.

She flung down her weapon, torrents of tears already pouring from her round horror struck eyes. She rushed to her side, collapsing onto her knees and picking up the limp body into her chest. Greta's head lolled back, lifeless. Although Viola never really liked the sharp tongued woman, she had learned to adore Carol. She knew the loss of Greta would cripple her and she was never going to get over it. It was all her fault.

"Charon, get Barrows!" Viola yelled desperately. Charon stood motionless.

"Charon, _please_!" Viola implored, holding Greta's body tighter.

"She's gone, Smoothskin."

"No...Carol..." Viola choked. Suddenly she snapped her head up.

"You didn't help! I could have died! Greta is dead...and you didn't do _anything_!"

"Ahzruhkal commanded that after 9:00 pm I must not commit any acts of violence until further instructions," Charon explained stoically. Viola's mouth fell open.

"He planned this...he knew this was going to happen...he knew she was going to come out at this time...the fucking sneaky bastard knew!" She roared, trembling with rage.

Charon had never seen her look so furious, and beneath his set straight face, he felt shocked at the tiny woman's fury.

She charged through the doors of Underworld, attracting the stares of the residents who suddenly began hissing questions at her and to each other as they saw the anger burn in her face that was drenched with blood. She ran up the stairs taking them two at a time and rounded the banister, throwing open the doors of the 9th circle.

Surprisingly, the bar was empty, all except for one. Ahzruhkal.

He wasn't at his usual place behind the bar. He sat on a solitary chair in the center. Grinning.

Viola paused, her chest feeling like it had crumbled in on itself. It was true. He had planned this. Ahzruhkal let out a chuckle, swirling a bottle of red wine in his right hand.

"I _always_ get what I want..."

* * *

_This can actually be done in the game, hence where I got the idea from. That's right, if you go down into the lower rooms of the museum, get a feral ghoul to follow you out into that massive hall just before entering Underworld and 9:00 pm, you'll find Greta having a fag break and the feral ghoul will kill her. Thus you don't have to fork out a shed load of caps and you don't lose karma...but Carol never really gets over it._

_So things are kicking off in Underworld and the smug little asstard (A fantastic way of describing Ahzruhkal which made me choke on my drink by __**LostOne1771**__) is finally getting his way. My God I love writing his villainous exploits._

_You guys already know how much I love reading your thoughts and opinions, so if you decide to leave a review it'll make me incredibly happy, I appreciate every one. Thank you all so much. _


	11. Lies and Vendettas

Viola rushed forwards, hands stretched in front of her ready to grab Ahzruhkal by the throat. Before she could reach him a familiar weight found its way around her neck, and Charon had restrained her.

"You bastard! You fucking evil bastard!" She screamed with so much force she felt her legs bend under the weight of her own body, suddenly too weak to hold her up.

Ahzruhkal tutted and got up from his chair, pacing over to her, his black business shoes clumping on the hard wooden floor.

"You should have known this was going to happen. Things _always_ go my way," He smiled sweetly. Viola opened her mouth to shout out but Ahzruhkal clasped his gloved hand over her lips, muffling her scream.

"Now, listen to me. This is an order. You will not tell anyone I ordered you down there. I don't care what you tell them but they must not find out it was planned. They'd kill me and then they'd kill you...that's if Charon didn't get to you first since you would have to disobey my command in order to do that. And I can assure you, I would make Charon do that in a very nasty, messy way, do you understand? And by that time the contract we made would have been broken so I can do whatever I damn well please with you," He said, withdrawing his hand from over her mouth.

"You're a monster."

"I try my best," He smirked, taking a sip of red wine.

"How could you...I don't...I...don't understand."

"Poor little vault dweller. You would think you'd have got a little less naive after leaving that hole in the ground."

"Why?" Viola found herself asking, feeling like she was too empty to cry.

"Greta has been a thorn in my side for too long. More importantly that damned Carol's place. With her gone I'll get so much more caps."

"She died for your_ greed_?" Viola breathed, placing her hands over Charon's forearms to relieve some of the pressure he was forcing over her neck. Ahzruhkal barked out a laugh.

"Does that surprise you? Really?"

"Tell me why you wanted Fairgrieve dead," She said quietly, feeling like the question was now hollow and void of any meaning.

She cursed herself. If she'd just listened to Charon in the first place, kept her fucking mouth shut then Greta would be alive. If it wasn't for her God damned pride and stubbornness Greta would be alive. Ahzruhkal may have pulled all the right strings but at the end of it all it was her who set up the stage. And she hated herself for it.

"Ahh yes, your reward. I'll tell you what happened, it was our bargain after all. After travelling with the spineless rat for a while, things started...well, to get a little messy. Fairgrieve wasn't impressed by my tactics," He laughed, taking another drink.

"One day, I was walking and the ground fell out from under me. Turns out I was walking over a hidden metro line and fell straight down onto the tracks. At this point both Fairgrieve and I weren't aware that Freal ghouls do not attack ghouls such as ourselves, unless driven into a frenzy by the smell of a nearby human, and Fairgrieve just looked down on me, taking him only a second to decide what to do. He abandoned me. At the bottom of that feral ghoul infested pit. Just left me to rot."

"It's what I would have done too," Viola hissed and Ahzruhkal snickered.

"And you'll be wise to look where he is now," He threatened.

"After all this time, you still wanted him dead for that?"

"Dear, sweet Charcoal. You _never_ forget a man who has wronged you. _Ever._"

"You disgust me," She breathed weakly.

Ahzruhkal laughed and stepped forward pressing his body against hers, his alcohol drenched breath burning into her nose. She tried to back up further into Charon, but he didn't budge.

"Oh you are so cruel. Say it again," He sneered, his lips pulling back over his yellowed teeth to reveal a grin.

Viola seized the opportunity of having him in such close range to spit on him. Ahzruhkal laughed. Then he grabbed her by the hair and tugged her over to the bar, Viola hissing all the way. He slammed her head down onto the bar top making her yelp in pain and once again pushed himself onto her. Viola cringed at the way she could feel him jerking with sadistic laughter.

"Say it again," He commanded, breathing it into her ear.

"You. Disgust. Me."

"Better," He said, releasing her from his grip. Viola fell to the floor and leaned against the bar and looked over to Charon to see him staring empty faced at her.

"No, don't look at him, look at_ me_," Ahzruhkal hissed, crouching down in front of her. Viola looked over to him, her stare burning with hatred.

"I like our little bargains..." He said thoughtfully, and Viola felt her stomach turn as she watched his eyes glaze over in deep thought before returning again with an even bigger smirk. Viola moved to get up.

"Did I tell you to move?"

"No."

"Then don't. You can get up when I tell you you can get up," Ahzruhkal said standing up and looking down on her.

"You're a megalomaniac," She spat up at him, and he licked his lips.

"That's a big word for you isn't it?"

"You know it's true."

"You see that's where you are wrong. To be a megalomaniac suggests that I have _delusions_ of grandeur and power, now that's just absurd,"

"Egotistical bastard."

"Is that any way for a lady to speak?" He chuckled, extending his hand to help her up. Viola scanned his empty gloved hand.

"Go fuck yourself," She snarled, deciding to ignore his hand and get up on her own, scowling hard into the ghoul's smirking face.

"You've got a backbone...I like that. I'll enjoy ripping it out of you," He purred, finishing his red wine with a long sigh.

"Now, If I were you, I'd be running some excuses through that pretty little head of yours. I'm sure there will be a lot of questions flying around once people find out what you've done..."

"Don't you dare try to blame her death on me! Don't you fucking _dare_!" Viola hissed, getting right into Ahzruhkal's face, making Charon pace forward to step in should she try and attack him.

Ahzruhkal chuckled, folding his arms over his chest.

"If the shoe fits..."

Viola lifted her fist to slam into Ahzruhkal's jaw but Charon grabbed it, shoving it back to her side with such a force she stumbled, having to support herself on the bar. She stood scorching a glare into her sneering master's face. Ahzruhkal frowned.

"You're being a bit gentle, aren't you Charon?" Ahzruhkal said, slowly tilting his head to an angle in Charon's direction.

Charon didn't answer, after all it wasn't really a question as much as it was a statement.

"You're not getting attached, are you?" He found himself grinning.

"No," Charon replied.

It was true after all, he'd cut any emotions he felt towards his future employer dead as soon as he'd walked into the bar. It made it easier for him to break her bones and beat her black and blue should he be commanded to.

"You're not lying to me are you Charon? You know you can't lie to me..."

"I am aware I can not lie to you."

Ahzruhkal suddenly looked up to the sound of the 9th circle doors being flung open. Dr. Barrows stood scowling in the door frame, face like thunder.

"Care to explain?" He spat at Ahzruhkal.

"Explain what, doctor? Are you here for a drink?" He asked nonchalantly.

"Why I have a dead body outside the front of Underworld," He growled and Ahzruhkal's face dropped.

"Who is it?" He asked, his tone curious but not too concerned. Viola had to admit, he was a fantastic actor.

"Greta...she's dead."

"What? How?" Ahzruhkal demanded, frowning.

"That's the question we're all asking. It's like a mad house downstairs. Carol's in bits and Winthrop isn't too good either," Barrows explained.

He suddenly spotted Viola at Ahzruhkal's side, looking shell shocked and soaked with blood.

"Smoothskin, tell me what happened," Barrows demanded.

"...I was loading my gun. I was on my way out of the museum and I was loading my gun. I...I dropped a bullet and it rolled under the double doors leading into the lower halls. I didn't know there were feral ghouls in there. Two must have caught my scent and followed me out. I killed both of them...but I was too late. Barrows I'm so so sorry," Viola explained, voice shaking as she felt tears sting in her eyes.

She hated lying to the man. Every fiber of her being screamed out for her to push Ahzruhkal forward, to blame him for everything and tell the truth, but there was no way that was possible.

"Feral ghouls don't kill other ghouls...unless they got confused on your scent..." Barrows said slowly before gripping the bridge of what was left of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

"Shit..." was all he managed to say, shaking his head.

"Barrows I'm so sorry, I-"

"Not now, Smoothskin." Barrows turned on his heels and slammed the door shut behind him, leaving the three figures standing stiller than stone. Ahzruhkal was the first to speak.

"You're a great liar, Charcoal. I should be more careful..."

"I swear you'll pay for this! I fucking _swear_ on my father's life you'll pay," Viola snarled.

"I've been on this planet much longer than you have Smoothskin, and I'll give you this pearl of wisdom. _Karma is dead_. Blown away with everything else in the bomb blasts. I really don't think I'm going to get my comeuppance..." He half chuckled half wheezed.

Viola creased her nose in disgust at him and made her way towards the door.

"I don't think that's a good idea. You might want to wait a while before you show your face out there, just till things have simmered down. We wouldn't want you to get lynched now, would we?"

"It wasn't my fault! Even in my lie it wasn't my fault!"

"Greta was a well liked character around here...I wouldn't be surprised if people started looking around for someone to blame..."

Viola didn't want to admit it, but Ahzruhkal made a valid point, and now she thought about it, she wasn't too keen on facing up to anyone and having to lie through her back teeth a second time.

She let out a long drawn sigh and shuffled over to the corner of the bar furthest away from Ahzruhkal and slumped down into a chair, tucking her knees up towards her chin and wrapping her arms around her shins.

"You don't plan on sleeping there do you?" Ahzruhkal laughed.

"I did, until you laughed like that..." Viola growled, glaring at him from over the top of her knees.

"Fifty caps please," He said, sauntering over with his palm outstretched.

"Fifty caps!? For one night on a shitty little arm chair?"

"Either that or you can sleep in my bed with me," He purred out, leaning down to get a closer look at her.

Viola shuffled further into the couch away from him.

"Bastard," She hissed, unravelling herself and making her way out of the ninth circle, refusing to look back at Ahzruhkal who she left laughing in the middle of the bar.

She managed to creep by the residents of Underworld, those who were still awake and staring blindly off into the distance. She paused as she walked past the spot on the stone stairs where Carol's body no longer was, and then looked over to the two corpses of the feral ghouls that no one had bothered to clean up.

She moved through the room and found herself in the next, hopping over the front desk of the museum, lying down and curling up on her side. She turned off her Pipboy and plunging herself into a dull dusk like darkness. She crunched her eyes shut and thought that sleep just couldn't come quickly enough.

...

She woke naturally, groaning as she stretched herself out from her curled up ball. She let out a long sigh, and felt herself smile. Then the memories of the previous day ripped it's claws into her and she felt herself grimace. Things just couldn't get worse.

She opened her eyes and jumped when she saw Wintrop sitting on top of the other side of the desk, legs dangling off the edge. She pulled herself up into sitting upright, hitting her head off the side of the desk and letting out a hiss of pain.

"Did you kill her?" Winthrop asked.

"What?"

"Did you kill her?" Winthrop asked again, this time slower as he stared down at his feet.

"I would_ never _do that. Winthrop I feel awful...truly I do and-"

"Barrows told us all what you said happened. Everyone else swallowed it but not me. I want you to tell me what happened."

"I've told you what happened!"

"And that is lies."

"Winthrop do you really think I could kill Greta? Do you_ really_ think I could do that?" Viola asked, already feeling herself start to choke up.

"...No. I don't. But I'll tell you who could do that. Ahzruhkal. And the terms of your contract is you do whatever he tells you to. Everyone else may have forgotten that but not me."

Viola's face slackened and she felt her jaw loosen. She was always terrible at hiding her emotions.

"So it was Ahzruhkal! That_ bastard_!" Winthrop snarled, jumping off the desk and turning to make his way towards Underworld.

"Winthrop wait! Winthrop!" Viola yelled, grabbing his arm.

"Why would you listen to him, Charcoal? Why?" Winthrop asked, exasperated.

"He's my employer if I didn't do as he told me he'd get Charon to kill me. He told me to go down into the lower halls. I swear Winthrop I didn't know what he was planning! I feel so God damn awful and I'm just so sorry...but you can't tell anyone. If Charon or Ahzruhkal knew I told you, they'll murder me...which is actually what I deserve right now..." Viola sighed, loosening her grip on his arm and feeling herself sink down until she sat on the floor, head lowered.

"You didn't tell me...I found out myself, I guessed. You'll be fine..."

"Do you think Ahzruhkal would be satisfied with that excuse? Before the town kills him he'll murder me."

"...You're right...I always knew he was a bastard and now Greta is dead..."

"Winthrop, my contract with him will end in a month, after that, I'll get out of here with Charon as quick as I can and you can tell everyone the truth, he'll be all yours. But If you could do anything for me...please don't tell him or anyone else you know yet. Please. I've already let Greta die, I'm not going to let Charon rot away by that monster's side any longer," Viola pleaded, looking up at Winthrop who nodded slowly.

"I understand...but don't expect me to remain civil with him," Winthrop growled, storming away back up to Underworld.

Viola heard Winthrop mutter something and when she looked up she saw him disappearing through the double doors of Underworld and Charon making a steady pace towards her. She dragged herself up off the floor and perched herself on top of the desk, legs crossed and hands in her lap.

"Ahzruhkal wanted me to make sure you hadn't ran off," Charon said, hands at his sides.

"Do you ever say hi? You know, it's how normal people greet each other. It's not like I'm asking for a 'how are ya' or something. But a hello would always be nice..." Viola grumbled and Charon snorted before relaxing his shoulders.

"Are you alright, Smoothskin?" Viola looked up, surprised at the tone he used. It sounded genuinely sincere.

"Not really, Big guy. The sooner he sends us on another goose chase out of here the better," Viola sighed heavily, her slim shoulders slumping.

Charon blinked as he slowly looked over the tiny woman. It amazed him that what looked like such a fragile thing could survive out in the Wastes...hell it amazed him she wasn't blown away by small breezes, let alone the recoil of a shotgun or assault rifle. One thing was certain, she definitely looked out of place. He would have to work a lot harder for this future employer than for Ahzruhkal, maybe even have to lay down his life for this one as demanded in the contract. But he did know this; he would rather suffer through Dante's hellfire and go out in a blaze of glory by her side than live an eternity and die doing Ahzruhkal's petty dirty work. He was sick of that damned bar, sick of the damned bastard's face and sick of that damned fucking corner.

He shook his head slowly. He was determined to make her survive long enough to get his contract.

"You okay, Big fella?" Viola said, attempting a reassuring smile.

"I suppose. Come on, Ahzruhkal wants you back in the bar. Who knows, maybe he'll assign you your very own corner," Charon grumbled enthusiastically and Viola laughed.

"Did you just make a joke?" Viola felt herself grin.

"Never," Charon answered, pacing back to Underworld with the strange little Smoothskin following in his footsteps.

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_Thank you so much for the reviews chaps, I'm so happy I've managed to make some of guys hate Ahzruhkal. It was what I was aiming for, a sort of love to hate kind of feeling. I hope you're all enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing it, hope you stick around. _


	12. Drinking Jet

_Hi people, just wanted to say I'm sorry for the late update, it's been pretty hectic since I've recently found out that I've got into University and I'm pretty screwed when it comes to paying for things, so I've been freaking out about that and accidentally lost track of the time and forgot to update, so I'm very sorry! Anyhow, hope you enjoy a little bit of creepy ol' Ahzruhkal... _

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By the time the late night patrons had dragged themselves into the bar Viola was near enough ready to put a gun in her mouth. Ahzruhkal had her doing odd jobs all day, clearly he had nothing significant or meaningful for either her or Charon to do and was simply looking for a way in which to get all he could out of her contract.

Viola wouldn't have minded the way Ahzruhkal had dragged a chair behind the bar so he could sit and watch her with a sly little smirk on his face everytime she had to bend over to collect a few bottles from the bottom shelf. What really got to her was the way the patrons now acted towards her. People who use to smile and greet her now couldn't even bring themselves to look in her eye anymore. Viola was just grateful no one so far had said anything about the events of last night, although she'd heard more than a few bitter and spiteful grumbles from the braver ghouls.

When the bar was eventually empty, and after Charon had to forcefully remove Patches from the far left bar stool and out of the double doors, Viola sank down into a chair and sat in solemn solitude, awaiting Ahzruhkal's next commands.

What she didn't expect was to have a bottle of whiskey placed on the table in front of her, the soft thud pulling her out of her own thoughts. She looked up to see Ahzruhkal standing over her with another bottle of whiskey in his own hands.

"Oh, now don't you look...miserable," He said in a voice filled with concern that would fool most people.

Viola snorted in response, and didn't touch the whiskey, and instead looked over at Charon who was staring at them from his corner in the bar.

"Poor Persephone, sweltering in a thick blanket of hand stitched misery..."

"And whose fault do you think that it?" Viola spat.

Ahzruhkal said nothing, but only half smiled before nodding to the whiskey on the table.

"Drink. It's on the house," He told her, reclining into the chair opposite her own.

"Why?" Viola questioned, frowning.

She knew Ahzruhkal never gave anything for free, he always expected something in return.

"You should learn not to look a gift horse in the mouth," Ahzruhkal grinned.

Viola sighed heavily, and looked down at the bottle on the table. She leaned forward, took the bottle, and held it out to Ahzruhkal.

"You have this one. I'll have that one," She said, gesturing to the bottle in his hand.

Ahzruhkal laughed softly, and shrugged, handing her his bottle and taking the one from her hand, taking a long swig.

Viola took a drink out of her whiskey, resigning herself. At least she could get drunk and pretend she was anywhere but sitting in a dingy bar with a man whose guts she hated.

"What do you want, Ahzruhkal?" Viola breathed heavily, slouching into her chair whilst glaring daggers at the smirking bar man.

"And what makes you think I want anything?" He chuckled, taking another drink.

"The drink, Ahzruhkal. You don't give anything out for free."

"You clearly don't know me that well."

"Yes I do."

"No, you really, really don't," Ahzruhkal sighed and Viola choked out a laugh.

"You like to think you're all mysterious and complex but everyone that walks through that bar can read you like an open book."

"Am I really that predictable?" He smirked.

"Bet your life on it," Viola huffed, feeling an odd sensation buzz in her head, as if her skull was slowly being filled with molten lead. She took in a breath and shook herself in an attempt to rid herself of it.

"What about you, Charon? Do you think I'm predictable?" Ahzruhkal called over his shoulder to the iron man standing frozen in the corner, eyes fixed on Viola who had started to hold her head in her hand.

"No," Charon answered honestly.

It's true, a person could easily decipher Ahzruhkal's motivation for almost all of his actions. Everything he did was solely selfish, and the only thing he really cared about besides himself was the bar and caps. He seemed at first glance a simple man, yet he was the furthest thing from predictable.

Viola had begun giggling now, head still clamped in both her hands. Charon gritted his teeth. There was no way she was this much of a lightweight, she hadn't even had half the bottle.

She snapped her head up and nearly lost her balance despite being sat down and had to clutch onto the table for support which only made her laugh louder, doubling over.

Charon glared at Ahzruhkal. The man had a sinister sneer slapped across is face as he pulled the gloves off his hands.

"You...you are.._.sooooo _predictable!" Viola said in a breathy voice, her words slightly blurring into each other.

"Am I really now?" Ahzruhkal answered, leaning across the table.

Viola giggled in response, crossing her legs and leaning in further, resting her chin onto her hands to Ahzruhkal's amusement.

"Are _you_...uh, wait..." Viola let out a burst of hysterical laughter and leaned back into her chair so fast she lost balance and collapsed onto her back, making her laugh even harder.

Ahzruhkal got off his chair and sauntered over to her, looking down with his head cocked to the side.

"What are...you, um. What are you waiting for? Help me up!" Viola demanded flinging her hands out and wriggling her fingers.

"You know I can't do that," Ahzruhkal purred, putting his hands in his pockets as if to tease her.

"Why?" Viola winged, pouting.

"You remember a little deal we made?"

"We, er, made a deal? No we...we..didn't!" Viola chuckled.

Charon didn't move out of his corner, but he felt his head reel. What the hell was going on? He dared to speak up.

"Ahzruhkal," Charon said as plainly as he could.

"What?" Ahzruhkal said, without removing his eyes off Viola who was still holding her arms out to him.

"What have you done?" Charon questioned. It was risky, but Charon couldn't stop himself.

"Since when do you question your master?" Ahzruhkal snapped, briefly tearing his eyes off the little woman on the floor to glare at Charon with suspicion.

"Help me...up," Viola pleaded again.

"Alright Smoothskin, but you have to give permission to touch you..."Ahzruhkal grinned and suddenly it all became clear to Charon.

He'd drugged her. He was going to do something awful and there was nothing he could do. Suddenly he felt a strange sensation begin to tingle in his head, as if his artificial instinct to protect his employer was already starting to set in place now he knew Viola would soon be his to protect and do as she willed. But for now, the current employers will overrided everything.

"What sort of a...request is that? Of course you can touch me, Mr...er...what's your name again?" Viola frowned, lapsing into deep thought.

Ahzruhkal fitted his peeling, half rotten hands into her soft ones and pulled her up. He was shocked at the softness of her skin, no one had skin like that in the Wastes, he doubted even the bigots up in Tennpenny could hold a candle to it. But it wasn't her soft hands he was interested in.

Viola's one leg buckled and she nearly fell to the floor, but Ahzruhkal propped her up against him. She wasn't smiling now and her eyes didn't seem to be focusing. In her head Viola knew something was wrong, a voice in the back of her skull kept trying to scream it to her, but it seemed too far away for the words to make any sense. She felt a complete sense of apathy roll over her, and her head started to hurt again.

Suddenly a moment of clarity ensued, followed by a flare of anger that sparked in her chest. She yanked herself away from Ahzruhkal, nearly stumbling over her legs and catching herself again on the side of the table.

As soon as the moment clarity was there is shrank back into nothingness and she began laughing again.

"What are you laughing at Persephone? I thought you believed Underworld as cold and dead as my heart, and yet here you are, laughing like it's spring again," Ahzruhkal sighed, taking her hand in his and pulling her off the table. She landed on his chest and looked up at him, eyes wide and almost blurry. She smiled absent mindedly with those large plump pink lips, and suddenly caught sight of Charon who was staring blankly at her.

Her face erupted into a grin and she shuffled away from Ahzruhkal and over to Charon. Charon glared down at her as she stood swaying in front of him, an odd look of bemusement slipped across her face. She fell forward and wrapped her arms around him, enveloping him in a spine crushing hug.

"D..daddy...I missed you...where on earth have you been?" She slurred out before giggling as if in Elysium.

Charon looked up to see Ahzruhkal glaring at him.

Charon froze rigid. He had no idea what to do in this situation. Half of him wanted to push her away from him, the second half of him wanted to keep her there with him, if only to give a a while longer. But as he watched Ahzruhkal creep closer he decided it was time for him to sever his emotions again.

Ahzruhkal pulled her away from the huge mercenary's chest and she complied, happily snuggling into him much to Charon's disgust. Viola started laughing again and looked up to Ahzruhkal.

"You are...er...that man...the one who owns the bar...they told me...um...what?" She slurred out. Ahzruhkal opened his mouth to say something and Viola tugged him down by the tie and pulled him into a kiss.

Ahzruhkal was more than happy to go along with things. He tangled her up in his arms and tugged her towards the bar, forcing her against it and making Viola let out a yelp of shock before readjusting her grip on him and pulling him into her again.

Ahzruhkal let a snake like grin slither over his lips as he pulled away and calmly removed his tie before starting to unbuckle Viola's armor. Viola felt her head pang in intense pain and she gritted her teeth and put her palms over her eyes. Again a wave of clarity crashed into her.

She snapped her head up and scrambled up onto the bar, aiming to crawl over it to get to the other side before again her drugged limbs failed her and made her slump back down to where she was before.

"Bastard..." She managed to force out of her mouth as she sank to the floor in front of him, head lolling back and eyes starting to droop. She heard Ahzruhkal chuckle above her and to her surprise watched him kneel down to her level.

"No, no...I want you awake for this," He smirked and pulled her up onto her feet, but Viola was already gone. She fell forward and Ahzruhkal snarled out a curse. He pulled her up and pushed her back down into a chair and caught his breath as he watched the little figure start to shudder.

"Now that doesn't usually happen," Ahzruhkal said curiously, tilting his head to the side and leaning in to get a better look at her face.

Her face, despite it's usual weak saturation was now completely colourless and had a slight sheen of clammy sweat to it. Dark circles had began to etch themselves below her eyes and her teeth started chattering. Something was definitely wrong.

Firstly the type of jet he used on her was meant to be slow acting and delirium inducing, meaning she wouldn't have crashed this soon after taking it and would have before been either too ridiculously happy to care that he was fucking her or too apathetic to give a damn.

The truth was there was no fun to be had in sleeping with her against her will, it wouldn't give him the massive ego boost he so craved, and so drugging the person into not caring was the best and obvious root forward.

"Shit, "Ahzruhkal hissed out as he glared at Viola whose eyes were open now but moving around without focusing on anything. Ahzruhkal had known enough regular jet takers in his time to know when a trip was going to turn nasty, and this seemed like it was well on its way.

"Charon, take her down to the Chop shop, tell Barrows someone slipped something into her drink. I don't want her to die, do you hear me? I'm not finished with her just yet," Ahzruhkal demanded doing up his buttons and swiping his tie off the bar before disappearing into the back room.

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_Oooo I love me a bit of creepy old Ahzruhkal. Any how guys, I hope you're all enjoying this, thanks for the review **AzureStorms, **I too have the problem of making myself evil in the Fallout games, I always end up making myself feeling bad. But I'm glad you're enjoying it and hope you continue to enjoy it. Thank you very much everyone, I'll update soon as I can._


	13. plots and dying

Charon ignored the stares of confusion and horror from the few ghouls that were still awake and walking around at him, carrying the limp little woman who was shivering uncontrollably.

He strode down towards the Chop Shop, snarling at a ghoul who was about to say something before shrinking back into the shadows, head lowered. He booted the door to the Chop Shop open, unable to push it open with his hands as he clutched the small body of Viola to his chest.

He dumped her a little too rough on one of the hospital beds and was thankful when he saw Barrows was awake and marching towards them, however was a little less thankful when he saw the expression on his face.

"Get out of my Chop shop. How many times must I tell you you're not welcome here, damn it! What? Do words not get through that thick skull of yours?" Barrows growled, wearing his usual blood splattered uniform which gave him quite a horrifying appearance, especially in the low light.

"Help her," Charon demanded.

"No. You both are not welcome . Get her out of here," Barrows retorted stubbornly.

"Barrows she is going to die," Charon told him bluntly.

Barrows shrugged.

"It's not my problem. Either take her out of here so she can die in the corridor or try and get her down to Rivet city. Though I doubt you'd get there alive lugging her around as well as trying to kill all the Supermutants you might bump into."

"Help her," Charon said again, no more urgently than the first time. Barrows snorted and looked over to Viola, who had begun cringing and writhing in her sweaty skin.

Her eyes had shrank back into black chasms and her lips were chapped and bloody from being lacerated by her own chattering teeth. She looked bloody awful.

"What happened to her? For scientific purposes, you see," Barrows inquired, quickly excusing himself before Charon could begin to think he was going to help.

"Something in her drink. Ahzruhkal found her like this in the bar," He explained, looking back and forth between the dying girl and the doctor who refused to help her.

"...Interesting. Now get out. And take that with you," Barrows said sharply, walking away.

Charon gritted his teeth at the doctor's callousness.

"No," Charon snarled, rooting his feet firmly to the floor and slightly apart as if he was about to start fighting. Barrows turned and raised an eyebrow.

"She killed Greta. Accident or not she killed her. I am not going to help her," Barrows stated, crossing his arms over his chest.

Charon growled under his breath. Ahzruhkal had told him he didn't want her to die. _He could not let her die_.

"I'll make you a bargain," Charon said, his voice under perfect control despite knowing every second that crawled by Viola was a second closer to lapsing over the brink where even Barrows couldn't tear her back out.

"What?" Barrows let out a wheezing laugh in disbelief.

"I know you're desperate for some human test subjects. That girl in the coma hasn't stirred inch and you need a subject which isn't half dead. Keep her alive and I'm sure you can work something out with her," Charon said carefully, eyes narrowed and stitched onto Barrows face, trying to work out his thoughts through the lines on his face.

Barrow's eyes seemed to glint in the dull light and he pursed his lips. He looked to Viola,and then back to Charon.

"I can use her in my experiments?" He questioned.

"...Yes. So long as you don't purposely try to kill her." Charon replied.

It wasn't great, but it was the best he was going to do. There was no other way in which he could bargain and tempt the doctor.

"And if she wakes up and doesn't agree?"

"She will."

"How do you know?"

"She. Will."

Barrows gritted his teeth, then sighed, shoulders slumping. He then sprang into action, taking his place beside Viola and checking for her pulse. Like he expected it was far too fast. He started to collect some equipment Charon couldn't name as well as a bucket and began launching questions.

"You said it was a drink?"

"Yes."

"You know what drug it is?"

"I would guess it is Jet."

"Guess? No, you'd better be damned sure it's not Psycho, you don't want to drink that shit, surprisingly even worse if you take it like that instead of injecting it. Fucks up your stomach, burns right through the walls, gives you a terrible case of Hypochlorhydria if you survive...when did she take it?"

"About half an hour ago."

"Then it's not psycho, it would have killed her by now. Okay...we're doing this the old fashioned way...Charon get over here, hold her hair," Barrows demanded, propping Viola up who was still shuddering.

Charon tugged back her hair, his fingers accidently slipping over her wet, clammy forehead as he did. Barrows tore the lid off a bottle of clear liquid, slipped a syringe into it and placed it in her mouth, injecting the liquid out at the back of her throat. As soon as the liquid reached her stomach Viola lurched forward, gagging before retching into the bucket, shoulders jerking and stomach constricted painfully with each retch.

She slumped back onto the bed, she was now awake and her eyes darted around wildly, not focusing on either Barrows or Charon.

"Great, next step. The Jet that's still in her system is having a nasty reaction to the drug, she's got a mild form of Anaphylaxis, see around her mouth? The swelling? We need to get her blood pressure up too, that's too low. Go into the cupboard, there's a bottle of drugs in there marked 'Fludrocortisone.' Get it for me," Barrows ordered, wiping a cold damp flannel across Viola's face to try and cool down her skin that was burning up.

Charon did as he was told and returned with the bottle, thrusting it towards the doctor who snatched it from his hands before giving a small dose to Viola, who only just managed to swallow the pills.

"...Water...please?" She rasped out, looked at Barrows with large, ugly blood shot eyes.

"Charon," Barrows said, nodding towards a bottle of purified water that was conveniently on the side.

Charon grabbed it and held it out to her. Viola tried to reach up for it, but her hands were shaking too much to grip it and when Charon started to take his hands away the bottle nearly spilled it's contents all over her lap. Charon sighed heavily and held it up to her lips, tipping it back slowly before Viola held up her hand as a signal to stop. She tried to smile, but failed dismally.

Eventually Viola stopped shaking, but her chest was still heaving with the effort to get more oxygen. She then sank onto her back, her tired eyes slowly pulling down until she didn't even move.

"Barrows?" Charon hissed.

"She'll be fine, she-"

Viola's eyes shot open again and her body began convulsing in waves of shocks, her limbs thrashing out wildly before going limp, eyes staring blankly at the stained ceiling.

Charon felt his whole chest clench in one painful movement and he looked at Barrows, then back to Viola whose eyes had not moved, those eyes that looked as cold and dead as the iron her irises mimicked.

"That's not good," Barrows muttered, holding his hand to her neck. He tutted and began rummaging for something in a first aid kit.

"What? What is it?" Charon demanded, his voice bleeding with urgency.

"She's dead," Barrows answered matter of factly.

Charon snarled inarticulately in rage at the doctor before jamming his fingers just underneath her chin. There was no pulse. She was dead.

"You might want to stand back for this," Barrows suggested, tearing off her armor and cutting through her gray tank top to expose the soft flesh beneath.

With one swift movement he jammed something directly in the middle of her chest, and Viola flung forward screeching in sheer shock, eyes now swimming with life and fear.

Despite himself Charon flung himself backwards, heart racing as he stared at the moving corpse.

"That should do it," Barrows grinned, playing with the syringe which contained a shot of pure adrenaline.

Viola's mouth hung open. She looked at Charon. Then at barrows. Then her entire world flitted and juttered to black as she sank back into the bed, eyes clamped shut.

Charon looked at the doctor expectantly.

"She's fine, she just needs to recuperate naturally now, I'll inject her with a balancer drug I've been working on, it'll hopefully neutralise the remaining Jet that's in her system," Barrows sighed, sticking a needle into her arm before withdrawing it and stepping away.

"You can go now. She'll be here in the morning and-"

"No."

"What?"

"No," Charon said again, this time more forcefully. He needed to be here in case he was of any use in keeping her alive. There was something else that was niggling in the back of his head too. Something that if Charon tried to put his finger on it, he'd get a pang of pain in his brain.

"Fine. I'm going to sleep. Unless someone's on their death bed, don't wake me up, you got it?" Barrows snapped defeated and paced away from them, grumbling drowsily as he did.

Charon looked down on the broken woman, who was so white and still she could have been dead. _Again._ In fact, in the low light of the infirmary she looked almost spector like, with her white skin nearly luminescent and her hair that appeared skeleton bone white which was splayed out around her, tangled and rugged, drenched with sweat.

Charon rested his head in his hands. His skull felt like it was ten sized too small for his brain which had began painfully throbbing. He hissed out a long drawn sigh, and as he did he suddenly realised he'd been holding his breath the entire time. What on earth was wrong with him? Was he _worried_?

He almost choked out a laugh. He couldn't remember the last time he was ever worried. Even when a couple of decades ago Ahzruhkal got himself into a very sticky situation which ended up with a barrel of a Lincoln repeater shoved into the bastards smirking face, he wasn't worried. In fact, the emotion he felt when Ahzruhkal was in immediate danger like that was ineffable. There were no series of words he could assign to articulate the crushing feeling that gripped his entire being in a vice like grip, screeching at him to protect the employer at all costs. One thing was sure it certainly wasn't worry. Such a pathetic, worthless emotion...and yet, despite not wanting to admit it, he felt it.

He looked at Viola again, narrowing his eyes. Was he getting _attached_? He snorted at the accusation he'd thrown at himself. He considered detaching himself from his emotions again, naturally appealing now it was hammered into him by the institute. He went to flick the mental switch, then stopped.

He didn't want to.

It wasn't harming him, his work, or anything else, having whatever the hell it was he had for the strange woman, and so long as it didn't interfere with the contract, there was no reason for him to. The more he ran it through his mind, it wasn't surprising that he'd developed a sort of kinship with her, especially after the way Ahzruhkal was treating her. Just as bad as him.

Although he decided it was entirely selfish of him to think it, it was nice to have someone around who was going through just a glimpse of what he was being put through his whole life. Suddenly he just didn't seem as lonely.

Charon grumbled under his breath. He'd never actually considered himself to be lonely before, but now he knew what he'd been without he could see it clearly. He growled, and thrust his face into his palms. This woman was going to be the death of him.

...

"Ch-Charon?" A little voice squeaked from the bed.

Charon snapped his head up to see Viola who was easing herself up off the hospital bed, cringing as she did so.

"Hey Smoothskin," He replied, voice oddly smooth despite the familiar ghoulish growl.

Viola paused, a small smile slowly spread across her face like a rising sun.

"You said hey," She whispered, looking over to him with half shut eyes. Charon said nothing and raised his eyebrows. Suddenly viola frowned, and looked around her.

"What? Where am I? The infirmary," She growled, answering her own question before Charon could answer.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay? Because I feel like shit," She growled, holding her stomach and swallowing through her dry, stinging throat.

"You don't remember?" Charon said, tilting his head slightly.

Viola paused, put a palm to her head, and then her eyes widened.

"Oh God..."

Charon let out a blast of air through the hole he called a nose and nodded in agreement of her disgust and horror.

"Oh God...oh...oooh. Ewwww! God, Charon! Urgh...did I? Shit, I _kissed_ him...Oh God why?" She cringed, her toes curling and her limps pulling up instinctively into her body almost like a tortoise.

Charon sat motionless, watching the repulsion ripple across her face as she began rubbing at her lips.

"That bastard! Ewww...I...urghhh," Viola shuddered, wiping more frantically at her mouth as though she could still taste him on her.

"Charon! Why the hell did you do nothing! Oh, damn...couldn't you have just conveniently accidently kill me or something? You know, you could have been cleaning your shotgun and your finger slipped!" Viola questioned, punching him in the arm and making Charon snarl instinctively.

"I'd never even kissed a guy before! Oh God..._why_?!"

Charon suddenly stopped snarling, mouth hanging open.

"What?" He said a little too quickly, suddenly reminding himself to keep control and not let his shock show through. Suddenly it struck him. She'd grown up in a vault, it made a little sense that she'd never even kissed someone in her life before, especially considering how she described any potential suitors down there.

"I can't believe it! What a _prick_! Wait...he drugged me too, didn't he!? He fucking drugged me!" Viola snarled loudly, making Barrows come shuffling over.

"Sleeping not so beauty awake then?" Barrows quipped, eyeing up the worse for wear woman sitting slouched up and reeking of sick on his hospital bed.

Charon shot Viola a look which made her shut her mouth. She could never understand how he had the ability to just give someone a single soul harrowing glare which would make them know exactly what he wanted.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like shit," Viola answered grumpily.

"You look it too. Can't expect you to look like a box of roses when you were lying there dead a few hours ago..."

"I was _dead_!?" Viola rasped out, shaking her hands in shock.

"As a door nail," Barrows agreed, folding his arms.

Viola shook her head slowly, frowned, then looked up to Barrows.

"_I was dead_!?" She said again, this time slower.

"Brains as well as beauty. Just like you Charon," Barrows grumbled.

"Watch yourself, old man," Charon grumbled back and a wheeze escaped Viola's throat as she tried to laugh.

"It's like your an old married couple. Ugh..._men_," She complained light heartedly, rubbing her swollen red eyes.

"You owe me Smoothskin," Barrows sniffed, giving her a look over to see if everything seemed to be in working order.

"Of course, of course, you literally brought me back from the dead...damn how many caps is that?" Viola laughed before cringing. She really didn't have the caps for this.

"No caps. Just you. You're going to be my new little lab rat," He answered, clapping his hands together and rubbing them.

"Wait, what? I didn't agree to that?" Viola hissed, looking nervously around her.

"You didn't, Charon did. You were beyond agreeing or disagreeing to be honest, so Charon made a decision for you."

"He did what?!" Viola growled, slowly inching her head to spin and glare at Charon who stood a little taller and glared straight back.

"He saved your life, Smoothskin. I would have let you die after what you done to Greta..."

"I did nothing to Greta!" Viola snarled in protest.

"I'm not here to argue with you. I'll be up to see you in the 9th Circle after I'm finished with a few things down here, I need to speak to Ahzruhkal about the terms and conditions of new employment," Barrows said.

"Oh well fucking done Charon. Fucking wonderful. Now I have one evil bastard who owns a piece of me and a mental doctor who could do God knows what. I hope you're proud of yourself," Viola scorned Charon who grumbled angrily as he watched Barrows smirk in amusement.

"She's got you trained well, eh Charon?"

"If I have to tell you to watch yourself once more, I swear you'll regret it," Charon hissed.

Viola let out a laugh that sounded more back to usual, and then she felt her face burn red.

She grabbed the tattered sides of her tank top and pulled them over herself.

"Why is my top ruined?" Viola asked cautiously, afraid of the answer.

"Needed to get to your heart," Barrows answered.

"Oh thank God I thought-"

Charon let a low rumble grow in the back of his throat. Another warning for her to keep her mouth shut.

Viola huffed and began doing up her armor grudgingly. She leapt off the bed, hissing a little in pain as her stomach muscles screamed up at her to be more careful.

She doubled over before slowly straightening herself out. She began pacing over to the exit.

"Where are you going?" Charon called after her.

"Ahzruhkal and I have unfinished business. Get the popcorn Charon, you're not going to want to miss this."

* * *

_Thanks for all your support guys, I love reading my reviews so much you're all so kind, you all keep me motivated to keep pumping out these chapters as quick as I can. _


	14. Punishments

Viola burst through the door of the bar, pausing as if to regain her balance as she leaned against the wall before pushing onwards towards the bar. Charon followed her closely, eyes narrowed suspiciously and waiting to stop her from doing anything rash.

Ahzruhkal looked up from a drunk patron who had passed out, huddled face down over the bar top. He frowned. Viola let out a breathy sigh, and slipped into the bar stool in front of Ahzruhkal with her eyes closed and her hands ruffling through her hair. She opened her stainless steel eyes, and gave him her most charming smile.

"Did you miss me?" She cooed, pouting a little and twisting a loose strand of hair around her index finger.

Ahzruhkal took a nervous look around at some of the patrons in the bar, either too drunk to care or happily engrossed in drowning their sorrows. He shrugged and leaned over the bar.

"You're a tease, you know that?" Viola let out a chiming giggle as she stepped up off the stool and sauntered round to the other side of the bar, swaying a little as she did so.

Charon could feel his airway constricting. He had to protect the contract holder and yet he wasn't sure if Viola wanted to put him in danger. He would have thought yes only a minute ago but now, by the way she was looking at him, he wasn't so sure. What had happened to the furious Viola?

"I am?" She purred, slipping her fingers around her belt and tugging him forward towards her. He tilted his head down to look at the grinning little woman who ran her hand up his torso and pulled him down towards her by his tie, leaning backwards as she did so to keep a few centimeters between them.

"I want to tell you something..." She breathed, lips parted.

Ahzruhkal's signature smile spread across his face. He tilted his head as a reply.

"Come closer..." She beckoned, holding up her index finger and gesturing him to come closer.

As he leaned in she pulled her hand back and hammered a fist directly between his eyes and thrust her knees with as much force as she could muster between his legs, making him stumble backwards whilst keeled over.

"That was for _everything_ you've done to me and to all the others!" She snarled.

Before she could land in another hit she felt something like a boulder crush down over the back of her skull. Before she could register the pain she saw the world drop dead around her, fading to black.

...

She jerked awake and felt something contain her and wildly she began thrashing to try and release herself. She suddenly heard Charon grunt with the effort to contain her and immediately she calmed down.

She looked around and saw Ahzruhkal still at the bar, which was now empty, which meant either he kicked everyone out or it was late and shut the bar.

She managed to tilt her head to her Pipboy and swore. It was 3:00 in the morning. The amount of times she'd been knocked out or passed out and missed hours was getting ridiculous, and for a moment she worried for her remaining brain cells, but that was before she saw Ahzruhkal still rummaging around behind the bar.

She scowled and groaned, a migraine was scraping itself across the surface of her brain and for some reason her neck was sore. She looked down at herself and took a sharp intake of breath when she found her front was stained with dried blood.

"Ch...Charon," She whispered.

She didn't know why she said his name. Perhaps it would be comforting to hear his voice. All of the sudden she wanted to hear her father's voice, more than anything.

"You're awake then? Wasn't sure you'd wake up, actually. You see I ordered Charon to kill anyone who who he fails to protect me from. He knocked you out, even had a knife to your throat. I saved your life," Ahzruhkal explained slowly, strolling over to them.

Viola hesitantly touched her neck, wincing as she felt a small, thin shallow slit where Charon had clearly lined his knife up, ready to follow through her jugular.

"Are you going to_ thank_ me?" Ahzruhkal asked, folding his arms.

Viola didn't like this. Even when Ahzruhkal threatened her, he would often smirk and mock, but not now. Now his face was straight, unemotional, and Viola was terrified.

"Thank you," She said quickly, avoiding eye contact and staring at Chraon's hands which firmly arrested her upper arms.

"Release her Charon...and Charcoal, I wouldn't move if I wanted to keep breathing..."

Charon did so immediately and stepped back from Viola who remained frozen to the spot.

"Charon, come here," Ahzruhkal demanded, and Charon did as he was told.

"You_ failed_ me Charon."

Charon stood a few steps away from Ahzruhkal, and fixed him with a glassy, glazed over stare.

"You know I don't like it when you fail me. Charon, get my baseball bat," Ahzruhkal ordered, and Charon nodded. He walked over to the bar, leaned over it and pulled out a grimy, blood stained baseball bat from underneath the counter top.

Viola felt her heart hammer and she looked desperately between the two men, mouth dry and hanging open.

Charon handed him the baseball bat and dropped to his knees, head lowered.

"Wh...what are you doing?" Viola rasped out, feet rooted into the ground.

"You're aware that any violence on my behalf invalidates Charon and I's contract, yes? Well, you should also know that this rule is nullified if he fails me, in which case I am able to punish him in whatever way I see fit..." Ahzruhkal explained, looking at the kneeling man in front of him with an arrogant grin.

"What are you going to do?" Viola mindlessly asked, holding her hands over her mouth.

"Not what _I'm_ going to do. What _you're_ going to do," He smirked, holding out the baseball bat.

Viola stumbled back as if the bat was on fire.

"No..." She breathed, hardly managing a noise above a whisper.

"It's an order, Charcoal."

"This conflicts with my second rule," She hissed, but Ahzruhkal was unconvinced.

"I don't want you to kill him. Your rule was that I couldn't order you to kill anyone you don't deem bad enough to kill. I'm just asking you to punish him for me..."

"I...I can't do it!" Viola choked, feeling a familiar sensation run down her cheeks. She blinked away her tears.

"If you don't, you've failed me and Charon will be forced to kill you," Ahzruhkal breathed, shaking the bat in her direction.

"Please not this!"

"Oh but I insist..."

"God no! I'm begging you,_ please_!" Viola fell to her knees in front of him, hands clasped together and her whole body shaking. To fuck with dignity and pride now.

"Oh dear, I see it now. Persephone has fallen in love with the ferryman, hm? Don't make me laugh."

"He's my friend..." Viola wheezed, tucking her arms around her stomach and leaning over so her head nearly touched the floor.

The word hit Charon like a bucket of iced water. In fact he was fairly certain it made him flinch. _Friend_? He was her friend? He quickly numbed himself again.

"Oh how quaint, but you see my dear, I can not sympathise. You betrayed me and Charon failed to protect me. Sorry sweetheart, you're doing this and that's final."

"Anything! Anything else I'll do, any fucked up shit you could ask me for, I'll do! Just don't make me hurt him!" She pleaded, not being able to bring herself to look at the man.

"Tempting offer my dear..._very_ tempting...but I think I'm going to enjoy this more," Ahzruhkal chuckled, pulling up a chair and patting the palm of his hand with the head of the baseball bat in a slow steady rhythm.

"What?" Viola hissed.

"What can I say? Your misery is more enjoyable to me than my pleasure."

"You're fucking with me, right?"

"I'm not, I thought we'd just cleared that up?"

"I fucking hate you."

"Ooooh, say it again," Ahzruhkal chuckled, throwing the bat at her.

Viola caught it in her hands as a reaction, and immediately dropped it again.

"Viola, I want this doing now, if you don't do it, Charon here is going to rip your jugular out and in the seconds you have left, he's going to show it you, do you understand?_ Now_."

Viola picked up the baseball bat in her shaking hands, pulled herself up off the floor and slowly made her way up to Charon, who hadn't moved a muscle.

She let it rest in the crook of the back of his neck, and Charon felt something drop on him and run down his face. She was crying.

_She was crying for him_.

"I'll tell you when to stop. Don't go for the head so much, I don't want you accidentally killing him," Ahzruhkal said, leaning over to a table top and breaking the bottle cap of a bottle of beer before starting to drink it.

"Forgive me...I'm so sorry," Viola choked.

...

Charon didn't make a noise during his ordered punishment, even when the bat broke his legs.

It probably took a little longer than it should have, Viola kept collapsing in bouts of tears, shaking and throwing the bat down so she could hold her head in her hands. Ahzruhkal would simply laugh, pull her up by the scruff and shove her back forwards, beer in hand.

All in all Charon assessed his injuries as two broken legs, one broken wrist, (he'd accidtnley let a natural reflex get the better of him when Viola swung the bat towards his face, and he lifted up his hand to deflect it, resulting in a nasty break) a chipped front tooth and one knocked out molar.

Charon snorted. Even if she'd knocked out a front incisor it wasn't as if he was going to lose his looks.

He didn't care to count the bruises, that wouldn't require a stimpak and would just heal over time, which is more than he could say for Viola.

Ahzruhkal had left just over ten minutes ago, and Viola hadn't moved from his side, actually, he wasn't even sure if she was bothering to blink anymore, since there was a constant flood of water oozing from her bloodshot eyes.

Charon was slowly registering what had happened and what would be the least painful way for him to get to his secret stash of stimpaks which were all the way downstairs hidden in the bathroom out the front of Underworld.

"Viola..." Charon said tentivley, sitting up.

Viola moved her head towards him, but her eyes remained stitched to something unseen.

"Vio-"

"Charon I'm so sorry!" Viola sobbed, flinging her arms around his stomach and digging her face into his chest, making Charon wince as she squeezed down on multiple bruises.

"Go downstairs and get me some stimpaks, I have a stash of them, they're behind-"

"I have some on me now, here, please take them..."

"Viola, I have some down-"

"No...please let me do this," Viola begged, looking up at him with those impossibly round eyes.

Charon growled. God it was like saying no to a puppy. He didn't say anything, but gave a resigned grunt.

Viola immediately began fumbling around in her pockets for the stimpaks. A moment passed and she swore, frantically sweeping her hands over herself in a panic. Charon heard her sniff. He reached out his hand, and put it on her shoulder, making her shudder to a stop. She looked up at him.

"It is okay. Calm down. It's over," Charon told her.

He'd planned on saying it in a somewhat comforting tone, but it came out as cold and robotic as his usual tone.

Viola took a breath, slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out a couple of stimpaks, and shuffled closer to Charon.

"Okay, you're going to have to straighten out your legs as best you can before I inject this, otherwise your legs might not heal as well as we want them to," Viola explained, already cringing.

Charon nodded, and pulled something out from a pocket in his jacket, Viola frowned when she saw the small plank of wood. He slotted it into his mouth between his teeth which he clamped around it.

"Okay," He grumbled, slowly straightening his legs.

He crunched his eyes shut, and the only noise Viola could hear was the wood straining under his gritted teeth.

He spat the block out of his mouth, and Viola could hear that his breaths were slightly uneven with pain.

"How can you even do that?" Viola couldn't help but ask.

"I've spent most of my life in physical pain. You have to learn to cope with it eventually..."

"I'm sorry," She said, gently administering the stimpak into the nerve just below the kneecaps.

"...You called me your friend," Charon stated, controlling the urge to wince as his bones started to knit back together.

"I know," Viola stated in a matter of fact tone.

Charon looked at her, and scowled.

"Is it really that bad to be my friend?" Viola huffed, frowning.

"I'm lying here with two broken legs, I'm missing a tooth and my wrist is broken."

"Oh, stop being a cry baby," Viola grumbled, finding another stimpak and taking his forearm in her hand to inject it.

"No. It's not."

Viola looked up, and smiled.

"Thanks...you know I never really had many friends..."

"Me neither," Charon answered, slowly getting up off the floor and taking a step forward.

His knees ached, but they usually did that. Charon snorted. It wasn't fun getting old.

"You should get some sleep," Charon told her, turning his back on her and slinking back to the corner of the bar.

"Charon...this is all my fault, but I'm going to make it up to you. One day, I _promise," _Viola told him, her usual determined steely glint shimmering at him in her heavy lashed eyes.

"Seeing that bastard's face when you kicked him in the balls is reason enough to make you tapping me with a baseball bat worth it."

Viola barked out a laugh. It felt good.

"Team?" Viola grinned, stepping over to him and holding out her hand ahead of her face.

Charon stared at it for a moment before the memory of what to do in this situation struck him.

He grasped her hand in his, and tightened his grip, pulling her closer and leaning down to lock her eyes in his.

"Team."

* * *

_Yes, yes I know, I'm a coward. I just couldn't bring myself to write in detail Viola beating the shit out of Charon. I love them both too much. Yay, Ahzruhkal has now delved completely into his psychotic, sadistic tendencies. I don't care that he's a complete arse hole, I still bloody love that man, damn it. _

_Next Chapter I'm pulling in a few familiar faces, but familiar doesn't necessarily mean friendly. _

_This fan fic wasn't actually intended to be this long, but I keep getting ideas and you guys are all so supportive that I just keep going. I still know what's happening in the end, but I just keep slotting things in the middley bit of the story. So thank you to everyone who writes reviews and keeps reading this shit, you truly are the people that make this story just keep going and going. _


	15. Glorious Gunslinger

_Hey chaps, sorry for the short(ish) chapter, things have been pretty hectic, but anywho, here's a little bit to tide you over for now, I'll be adding a new chapter sooner than usual due to the shortness of this chapter, probably in the next couple of days, perhaps tomorrow. I won't make a habit of it, I promise!_

* * *

"Good morning, Sunshine!" Ahzruhkal chirped, a slight skip in his step as he entered the bar and saw Viola setting things out ready for the early morning drunks.

She glared, and continued to wipe the surface of the bar, this time with more zest and violence as she imagined Ahzruhkal's smirking face in the bar top.

He unlocked the door and already five usuals were waiting for their morning fix, shuffling in and grunted a greeting at Ahzruhkal who strolled back behind the bar, standing uncomfortably close to Viola who lengthened the gap between them.

Ahzruhkal chuckled, and busied himself with serving his patrons.

"Hey, Ahzy," A man with a couple of patches of dark brown hair grumbled, gesturing for Ahzruhkal to come closer.

Ahzruhkal did so, and raised an eyebrow.

"What's up, Rivers?"

"Some guy downstairs is looking for your friend," Rivers informed him.

"Charcoal, I never knew you had a boyfriend?" Ahzruhkal laughed, looking over to the woman who glared through narrowed eyes at him.

"Yeah, and he's not alone. They look pretty rough, Ahz. I kept hearing some people call them Talon Mercs..."

Viola snapped her head up.

"What?" She growled.

"Talon Mercs, darlin', as in Mercanaries" Rivers told her in his deep southern accent.

"What the hell do they want from me?" Viola hissed, panic already starting to course through her veins. One of the many lessons the Wasteland had taught her was to try and damn well succeed in ducking under the Talon company's radar.

"You tell me, I'm just the messenger," Rivers answered, giving them both a farewell nod and walking away.

Ahzruhkal chewed his bottom lip and nodded, as if mentally deciding what to do.

"Charon. I want you to go downstairs and stay there. If anything kicks off, you know what to do, but do not come back until I come for you, got it?"

"I will do as you command," Charon said curtly, and left.

Viola snapped her head to look at Ahzruhkal.

"What are you doing?" She spat.

She had her weapons, but she felt like she was out of practice, and she always found Charon's presence comforting, especially when she was in danger like this.

"I miss having a bit of fun, you know?" He smiled, clapping his hands together and rubbing them briskly.

Viola opened her mouth, but before she could make words, three men walked into the bar, clad in a heavy black armor, with a white splash of a bird's talon painted onto the breast plate.

"Shit," Viola hissed, more to herself than anyone else.

"Put your hands in the air princess, and if I were you, I wouldn't argue," The man in the middle grinned, aiming his rifle at her head.

Viola knew when to keep her smart remarks to herself.

She did as she was told, and as soon as she did, the man nodded to the others, and then looked back to her.

"Pipboy, eh, Vaultie? Guessing your name is Charcoal?"

"Gentlemen, please, can we take this a couple of notches down?" Ahzruhkal asked, smiling politely at the three men.

Viola watched his one hand hide itself in his pocket, and saw his fingers curl around an object he held in it. She tilted her head, frowning in confusion. Ahzruhkal caught her frown out of the corner of his eye, and his lip tugged up in amusement.

"Who are you"? The man spat, aiming the gun at him.

"I am her employer, and as her employer I really must insist you do not kill her. That's what you're here for, isn't it?"

"Employer? What, she's a whore?"

"_No_!" Viola snarled, glaring at Ahzruhkal.

"Bottom line, gents," Ahzruhkal began, chuckling.

"She belongs to me. You're not touching her..." Ahzruhkal smiled, slowly taking something out of his pocket, and dropping it on the floor, with a loud thud.

"What was that?" The talon Merc hissed, adjusting his grip on his gun.

"Whatever do you mean?" Ahzruhkal asked innocently, his head at an angle.

"_This_?"

Ahzruhkal kicked the round object which bounced across the floor. Viola yelped and dropped to the floor, along with all the other patrons in the bar. The Talon mercenary's eyes widened.

"Grenade!" He snarled, diving for cover, the other two mercenaries following his lead.

Ahzruhkal jumped up onto the bar, diving for two twin pistols in his belt. Before the Merc's could register that the thrown grenade was a dud, it was too late. Ahzruhkal fired three times, each bullet hitting the mercenaries with acute precision directly between the eyes. The last only managed to survive for enough time to to fumble his fingers around his holstered gun before slumping down

The bar fell silent, and Ahzruhkal smirked from the counter top, spinning his twin pistols on his index fingers.

"Damn I miss doing stuff like that," He chuckled, holstering his pistols after kissing both.

Viola stared up at him from the floor, mouth hanging open.

"Impressed?" He purred, cocking his eyebrow.

Charon barged his way in through the doors, combat shotgun held high. He swept it around the bar and the patron's ducked, covering their heads.

"Ah Charon, I thought I told you to stay down stairs?"

"I thought you were in danger. I must protect the contract holder."

"Well sweetheart this is your mess so you're cleaning it up," Ahzruhkal sighed, ignoring Charon and sweeping his hand at the three corpses on the floor as he hopped off the bar.

"Where the_ fuck_ did that come from?" Viola exclaimed, hastily scrambling up off the floor.

"Oooo, you are impressed," Ahzruhkal snickered, stroking his hidden pistols underneath the material of his pinstriped white jacket.

"Please," Viola scoffed, watching as Charon returned to the corner.

"What can I say, I'm quite the glorious gunslinger and Charon's my shotgun sinner. Do you miss the days when we were a duo, Charon?" Ahzruhkal cooed over to him and Viola felt her jaw loosen with surprise. _They use to go out on raids and shit with each other?_

"No," Charon answered shortly, ordered to always tell the truth to his master.

"Oh please, I know you _loved_ it," Ahzruhkal sighed, staring off into the distance.

"If you're so good at fighting, then why did you hire Charon?" Viola asked skeptically, as if unable to believe his sharp trigger skills.

"Oh, Charcoal, I moved beyond that. I have my fortune now, and no time for games..." Ahzruhkal half explained, waving her question away.

"But enough of that, I have a little mission for the pair of you," Ahruhkal continued, and Viola couldn't restrain herself from a swift grin before erasing it from her lips. Anything to get out of this shit hole.

Charon paced over.

"What are your commands?"

"My regular supplier hasn't turned up on schedule, he's a week late and if that man is anything, it's punctual. Last place I heard he visited was Andale. I want you to find him, and I don't care if it's his corpse you stumble across, so long as I know I need to get another one. The booze are running low in this place and I may just have to ask Quinn to get me the goods, but he charges obscene, and Marty amuses me with his idiocy occasionally. The man would loose his head if it wasn't attached..."

"Marty...?" Viola trailed off, waiting for the last name.

"You want his surname? How the hell should I know what it is? He's short, just a bit taller than you," he pointed a sharp finger at Viola who scowled at it like he was pointing a dagger at her.

"Natural blonde hair, but he never washes, so it's now a grimy brown colour. Dark eyes, not sure if they're dark grey or dark brown, slight build, makes it easier for scavenging I suppose, and mostly importantly, without fail, he wears motorcycle goggles and a brahmin leather jumpsuit," Ahzruhkal informed them, leaning casually against the bar.

"Anything else?" Viola inquired.

"Yeah, he's a smoothskin. Caused quite a stir in here a few years ago when he first turned up, was quite the little adventurer back then. But, and I'm not going into the details, he got on the wrong side of me, and so he scavenges and supplies my bar nowadays as a_favour_."

"Wonderful," Viola sighed heavily, feeling bad for the unknown 'Marty' character.

"I want you to leave as soon as possible," Ahruhkal ordered, and Viola nodded, heading off to gather all the things she needed.

* * *

_Special thanks to my guest reviewer and __**FloodFeSTeR, **__you know how much I adore reading them! Guest, please remind me never to read my reviews at half 5 in the morning after stumbling in drunk. I laugh louder and longer than I probably should have at the whole Captain douchestain thing. Seriously, the noise I made was inhuman. But on what you wrote I completely agree, Ahzruhkal is, in the words of Charon, an evil bastard, and so, let's face it, he's clearly somehow earned himself that harsh reputation, and so this is how I think Ahzruhkal behaves behind the iron curtain._

_Thanks again for all the views people, I love you all, and if I could, I'd buy you all Ben and Jerry's cookie dough ice cream. (If you haven't tried that shit, I suggest you do, it's bloody delicious.)_

_Hope to see you all for the next chapter, take care of yourselves. _


	16. New faces

As soon as Viola's boots hit the dusty ground outside of the museum she let out a loud yip of joy, rushing ahead of Charon who stared at her like her head had rolled off her shoulders.

"Oh dear God this feels good!" She giggled, holding her Chinese assault rifle to her chest and twirling on the tips of her toes.

"Which way are we heading, Big guy?" Viola chirped, practically buzzing with excitement.

"North," Charon answered, striding forward and setting a fast pace for them.

"I can't wait to get out of that hell hole...if he makes me hurt you again, I swear I'll put a bullet through his skull when all this is over...I don't care what the rest of Underworld thinks," Viola hissed, scanning around for a burnt tree.

"_No_," Charon answered so sharply Viola jumped.

"What?" Viola replied, finding a tree and rubbing the charcoal from the bark and pushing it into her cheeks and eyelids.

"You are not doing that," Charon said, watching her smooth the soot over her face.

"Why?"

"_Because I am going to get him first._"

Viola's face blanched as she stared up at Charon who wore an expression she hadn't seen before, and for the first time, she felt frightened of him.

"And you will not stop me, nor will you take this away from me, do you understand?" Charon growled, giving her a look that deeply disturbed her.

"Of course, sure...he's all yours," Viola breathed, holding her blackened hands in the air. Charon's face softened when he finally registered the worry that lined her face.

"Feel free to watch me though."

"Oh I will," Viola purred, lips twitching up into a smile.

She would never have thought she could be so sadistic, but after all Ahzruhkal had put her and Charon through, she couldn't think of anything better than to watch him squirm in the misery he inflicted on them.

...

Viola had never been this far north, and the hot wind blasted into her face as she struggled to keep up with Charon, who she never bothered to ask to slow down. She scanned around her, looking for a Molerat to test out her new Chinese assault rifle on.

Suddenly she realized there were no footsteps accompanying her own.

She turned to see Charon, the skin around the hole of his nose creased in concentration as he looked around himself.

"What is it?" Viola asked, her voice cautiously low as she made her way back towards him.

"Someone is close…"

"Talon company?" Viola hissed, facing her back to his and scouring the burnt out landscape for any threats.

"…No," Charon answered eventually.

He nudged Viola with his elbow and gestured up to the top of a steep slope just to the left of them, and after squinting against the garish light of the sun, Viola could make out two shapes.

"Raiders?"

"I don't think so."

"Then what?"

"…Not sure."

Charon lifted his shotgun, and narrowed his eyes as he aimed. He then let out a burst of air from his lungs in frustration.

"We need to get closer."

"Or we could just avoid them?" Viola suggested.

"We're heading down into their vision, if we don't kill them, they'll kill us," Charon grumbled, making his way closer to his targets.

Charon stalked closer with Viola in tow, his heart quickening its beat as he got closer to his prey.

Suddenly he heard Viola let out a yelp of shock and the scrabbles of a struggle. Before he could even turn around, he felt the familiar sharpness of a barrel of a gun jammed into the back of his head.

"Put down the gun and turn around real slow, zombie," He heard a man's voice snarl from behind him.

He heard Viola start to swear and the low laughter of two other males.

He looked up the verge to see the two figures making their way down towards them, guns in hand.

It had been a set up.

Which meant only one thing.

Charon dropped his gun and turned around, teeth bared like a savage dog, shoulders raised and head lowered, by the time he was face to face with the slaver, the man had paled a little.

"Whoa, frightening bastard isn't he?" A short man who'd taken Viola's weapon and pressed a knife against her throat said, eying up the enormous ghoul who glared at him like a man possessed.

"What the fuck do you want?" Viola snarled, conjuring a snickering laugh from the slightly taller man next to him with a shaved head and what appeared to be a black tribal tattoo dripping down the side of his face.

"'How much do you think we'll sell 'er for?" The man asked eagerly, looking her up and down , getting so close Viola lashed out a kick which he only just managed to avoid.

The man who had Charon at gun point just smiled and shrugged, then turned his head to get a look at her and in that moment Charon had torn his gun from his grip, hammered the butt down into his face and shot the man holding Viola through the skull, sending a monsoon of red across the dry sand. Viola snarled as the dead weight of the corpse made her buckle down to the floor with it.

Charon turned on the shaved headed man, but before Charon could do anything, the man slammed his boot down onto Viola's back and thrust his hunting rifle into her head.

"Move and I kill the bitch!" He shouted, digging his heel into Viola's spine and making her squirm.

Charon froze, face still burning red with rage and hands clamped tightly around his weapon.

He heard the familiar clicking sound of a loaded shotgun behind him and heard two people panting for breath.

They were just on cue, Charon thought grimly, imagining in his head the scene that was meant to play out. The one where the man he'd shot fell backwards alone instead of taking Viola with him which meant he could have grabbed the barrel of the other man's gun, aimed it to shoot one of the two opponents that were already hurrying to rush to their coworker's aid and then the final one would have hesitated, giving him more than enough time to put a bullet in his brain.

That's how it was meant to happen.

"Put down the weapon and get on the ground!" Charon looked at Viola who was staring wide eyed at him, panting and wincing underneath a heavy boot.

He slowly put down the weapon and dropped to his knees, all the while staring hard into the man's small eyes that were far too close together to be considered normal.

"Shackle him," He commanded, and Charon didn't move an inch as two pairs of hands tied his hands together behind his back, digging deep into his wrists.

"So, you like fighting, do you?" How well do you think he'll do in the ring, lads?"

"I thought we weren't selling these ones to Dietrich, Pitcher?" One asked, looking back and forth between Viola and Charon.

"Just him. Since he likes to put up a fight, we'll give him one." He sneered, looking at the unconscious heap on the floor.

"Someone try to make Flynn come round, we've got a long way to go." Pitcher grinned, taking his boot off of Viola and tugging her up by her collar.

...

"Who the hell is Dietrich?" Viola eventually managed to hiss under her breath to Charon, who paced at her side with three guns aimed at his head, including the gun of the man, Flynn, who he knocked out and was now boring a glare into the back of his skull.

Charon didn't answer. He had to figure out a way to get them both out of there, and it had to be soon too, they'd probably get to the encampment shortly and they'd split them up and he'd never be able to find her.

"_Who's Dietrich_? A short, thin blonde man who Viola had heard to be called Scraps, snorted from behind her.

"Dietrich buys and sells fighters..."

"What, like slave mercenaries?" Viola choked, looking over at Charon who kept his eyes fixed ahead.

Scraps bit out a laugh.

"No, it's like dog baiting but a whole lot more fun..."

Scraps was cut off by a swift thwack around the back of the head from Pitcher.

"How many times must I tell you not to talk to the merchandise?" He hissed.

"We're both going to be sold to Dietrich then?" Viola questioned, ignoring the intimidating man with the gun aimed at her. They were in deep shit as it was, they didn't need to be split up to make matters worse.

"Be thankful we're not selling you to Dietrich," Pitcher sneered.

"No, where he goes, I go," Viola insisted, and Charon couldn't help but steal a glance at the panicking woman.

Pitcher and Scraps both laughed.

"Wait a minute...I know these two...He's that ghoul assassin that haunts these parts, isn't it?" Pitcher sneered, gesturing to the ghoul who towered high above them.

"Then you must be that chick that's been following him around like a lost puppy. Well, it makes sense that you're lost, Vaultie, far away from home, aren't we?" Pitchner growled in his husky voice.

"I am not leaving him." Viola snarled. Her chest was hurting. Her head was spinning. It was happening all over again. She was going to be left behind in some strange place in the company of strangers...psychotic stranger, no less.

"Oh, I see how it is...you're fucking each other, am I right?" Pitcher smirked.

"Don't say that Pitcher! We can't sell her for as much if they find out she's a ghoul fucker."

"How much do you think we'll get for her?"

"She's pretty enough, blonde little vaultie, you know some customers have a thing for 'Vault dwellers.' Not exactly and hourglass figure, but she's got something...I don't know fellers, I think we could get quite a high price for her..."

"Sell me to Dietrich." Viola demanded.

"What?"

"Are you deaf? _Sell me to Dietrich_!" Viola yelled, nearly stopping in her tracks.

"Why?" Pitcher sneered.

"Because you'll regret it."

"They'll kill you in the ring if I sell you to Dietrich. Now, that doesn't bother me, but I'm getting very tired of this, and I think that might shut you up."

"They won't kill me."

"Really?"

"I'll fight you."

"You're kidding, right?"

"If I win, you sell me to Dietrich. If you win, you sell me to whoever wanted to in the first place."

"Why should I?"

"If you're so confident that I'll die in the ring, then you should be confident that you can win in a fight against me..."

"No..."

"Are you a coward?" Viola hissed, turning on her heels to see Pitcher with a gun to her face.

Pitcher wasn't laughing or sneering anymore. His face was cold and looked like it'd been filled with cement, fixing her in a seemingly perpetual scowl. Viola grinned on the inside. Easy soft spot to find.

"I'm not a coward."

"Prove it. Fight me."

* * *

_Eeee I do love reading reviews! I want to thank everyone who reads this and especially those who take the time to review, follow and favourite. _

_**LostOne1775: **__I forgot to thank you for your last review, I completely agree, there is only so much Viola as an emotional character can go through, trust me, I have a plan that you'll see soon. __**Kurotaka naoko, **__Thanks so much for the review, I hope you like it as the story goes on. __**Enervation**__, This story would be a lot shorter if only Viola would have been as smart as you and just gathered the bloody caps for Charon's contract. Thanks for the review! _

_People I finally got my first flamer! Ah this is like a milestone for me!_

_Anyhow, if anyone had any suggestions for this story, critiques or questions feel free to suggest and ask away! Thanks again, everyone. _


	17. Lucky

"Are you scared of a little girl, Pitcher?" Scraps chuckled from the scowling man's side who reeled on him with a mad look in his eye.

"Are you questioning me?" Pitcher snarled.

"The point still stands, Pitcher. Are you scared of little old me?" Viola hummed, a slight smirk dancing on the side of her lips.

"You want to fight? I'll give you a fucking fight," Pitcher spat with such violence that Viola winced as a stray drops of spit splashed onto her face.

Pitcher jammed his gun at Scraps, who stumbled back as the weapon was hammered into him.

"Pitcher, this is a bad idea," Flynn cautioned him, eyes still boring holes into the back of Charon's head as the splitting ache in his head from where the ghoul had shoved the butt of his shotgun into.

"No. Bitch want's a fight, I'll give her a God damned mother fucking fight," Pitcher grumbled, grabbing the chains around her wrists and yanking her towards him so he could unlock the padlock.

"Keep an eye on that slippery little fucker, too. I don't want the bastard pulling a fast one on us like last time," Pitcher ordered, and Flynn and the other two men abided with pleasure, each pointing their weapons at his head.

When he tore the chains from Viola's wrists, she could help but let out a sharp gasp of a strange sweet concoction of both pain and relief shot up her arms from her quickly bruising wrists.

Pitcher tore his leather jacket off and threw it to the floor.

"No weapons?" Viola asked, making sure her hair was tied back tight into a bun and not a pony tail so there was no possible way it could be snagged or grabbed.

"No weapons," Pitcher agreed, removing a couple of hunting knives and handing his gun to Flynn.

"You knock me out, you win…"

"If I knock you out, I win," Pitcher smirked.

Viola opened her mouth to speak, but before she could make a noise Pitcher launched a fist towards her face, which she managed to deflect with her forearm. She flung a punch of her own and cringed in annoyance as she only managed to graze the side of his jaw. Pitcher took a step forward and ground his fist into Viola's gut, making her gag and keel.

Charon cringed, mentally screaming at her to keep her distance, he knew only too well that despite her heavy attacks, her defense was utterly laughable.

Pitcher seized his chance and forced a knee it her nose which crunched under the bone and made Viola fall backwards, more out of luck than judgment, just out of Pitcher's next attack.

Viola quickly managed to compose herself, ignoring the heavy flow of warmth that leaked like a tap from her nose.

Pitcher came forward again with his fist raised and Viola had already planned what to do. Just as she had done with Charon, she spat into Pitcher's face, more accurately into his eyes.

Pitcher snarled out a curse and scraped his hand over his eyes which were filled with a concoction of blood and spit, exposing himself to Viola's fist which she hammered into his face, making him stumble back.

She rushed forward whilst he tried to compose himself and drove down her boot onto the kneecap of the leg he was resting most of his weight on, and she was greeted, with pleasure, with a sweet snapping sound.

Before she could prevent herself, she remembered when her Dad had taught her the attack after telling her to always keep kicks low and swift, preferably into the shins of an opponent. He had told her it was one of his favourite attacks; subtle, easy to administer, and almost always a sure cure way to end a fight. She'd used it on Butch the once. She didn't manage to break his leg, though. Not like this time.

Suddenly she felt something crash around the back of her head.

She collapsed to the floor, managing to roll away from Pitcher who had also fell to the floor as his broken leg buckled beneath his weight.  
Viola staggered to her feet and before Pitcher could do anything, she slammed a boot into his face with a snarl of effort.

Pitcher's head lolled back and the rest of his limp body followed.

The only sound left was Viola's laboured panting as she rested her hands on her knees. Flynn swore and hurried over to Pitcher's side, dragging him up off the floor and onto his feet.

"I win," She spat at Pitcher who'd only just started to come round.

She heard Charon grunt out a chuckle from somewhere behind her, which filled her with an indescribable amount of pride. She then suddenly found herself wondering why she yearned for his approval so much, but before she could think deeper into it, Pitcher and swearing and hissing.

"Fucking bitch broke my leg!" He screeched at Flynn, who tried to divide his attention between Charon, who had now only one gun on him, and Pitcher.

"I win," Viola repeated. "And you know what that means."

"You really think I'm going to do what you tell me to do, you prissy little cunt? You've got to be fucking joking."

Viola felt her face burn with anger.

"We had a deal!" She snarled.

"The deal just expired," He snarled back with a smirk, and for a second he could have almost resembled Ahzruhkal, but even Ahzruhkal honoured bargains and deals and kept to his word.

Suddenly she heard something crack behind her, and Flynn's eyes widen with shock.

By the time Viola had turned around, she saw Charon, standing with a hunting rifle aimed at Flynn, Scraps and Pitcher, with the fourth man lying dead on the floor, his head at a sickeningly lethal angle.

"Do exactly as I say, and I won't blow your heads off," Charon snarled out a warning, sharp eyes scanning betweent he men who held their hands in the air.

Viola couldn't suppress the beaming grin that shone on her face. This wasn't what she planned to happen, but God damn was she glad it had worked out this way. She was never a lucky person, but it seems that for once fortune was smiling on her and Charon.

"Charcoal, get their weapon and ammo. Take everything. We have a long way to go," Charon commanded, and Viola was only to happy to oblige.

She scurried around the men who exchanged nervous glances besides Pitcher, who glared at her with eyes like fire pokers. When she got round to him, he bared his teeth.

"We're going to get you. Don't think you're getting out of this, bitch."

"Really? Because I think we already are," She purred, scanning her eyes over him. She pursed her lips.

"You know I really like that jacket..." She pondered out loud, gazing at the black leather Jacket.

"You'll fucking regret it if you touch that."

"Will I? I really don't think so," Viola sighed, unzipping it and sliding it off before pulling it over herself, shuffling around into it fit rather nicley.

"What do you think Charon? Suits me, eh?" She grinned, turning her back on the three men. She handed Charon his shotgun and he strapped the hunting rifle to his back.

"You ready?" She asked.

Charon aimed his gun.

"Nearly," He answered.

"C'mon, Charon, they're just a waste of bullets. The Wasteland will get them, anyway," Viola sighed.

"That's a little dark for you," Charon commented and Viola laughed.

"Their slavers. I fucking hate slavers. It's one of the reason's why I'm here," She said, and Charon nodded.

"Okay, Smoothskin. Let's go."

* * *

_Okay guys, I am so so so sorry for the wait. I've had a little bit of a breakdown and it took me forever to get motivated to do literally anything, so I'm really sorry. Various things started to make me panic and when I get into a panicy phrase it takes me a little while to get over it. _

_On a brighter note, I'm going to Uni in a couple of days, but I'll try and get the next chapter out as soon as I can, to be honest I think I'll be able to get the next one out soon, since I don't have to worry about packing, getting everything sorted and organised etc. _

_Thanks so much for the reviews guys! __**LostOne1775 **__and __**MistressMira, **__massive thanks for the reviews, it's great to hear off the two of you! _

_If anyone had any questions, suggestions or anything else, please drop a review, I appreciate them and you guys give me good ideas! Keep safe, chaps. _


	18. Won't you stay for dinner?

"Wait, _this_ is the town we're looking for Ahruhkal's scavenger in? But it looks so…nice," Viola frowned, scanning the oddly happy looking town that sat snugly in the middle of the Wastes.

"I don't like the look of this place…"

"Charon, do you really like the look of any place, do you?"

Charon grunted a response.

"Come on, this is going to be a walk in the park, we'll just knock a few doors, ask a few questions and be off, no harm done," Viola smiled, shuffling towards the nearest house, Charon cautiously in tow, gun gripped tight yet lowered.

Viola knocked loud enough to be heard but soft enough not to cause an alarm in whoever was inside, then waited.

When nothing happened for a minute, she tried again. Nothing.

"You think it's a ghost town?" Viola turned to Charon who shook his head.

"No. There a fresh tracks all around us, see?" Charon commented, gesturing with his gun to the foot prints in the dry earth.

"Do you think we should go in?" Viola questioned, biting her lip.

Charon muttered something before nodding.

Viola opened the door gently, stepping into the house. Which was lined with old wood across the floors and the walls.

"Hello?" She called. "Is anyone home? We're not looking for trouble…" Viola waited for a response.

"Maybe the place is abandoned? She shrugged, but before she could turn away she heard the drum of footsteps and saw an old man reel around into the hall.

"Wha…how? How did you get in here? What are you doing in this town? Get out! Get out while you can!" He yelled, fear etched into every word as he scanned over Viola's face as if begging her with his eyes to heed his warning.

"Wait, what? Slow down!" Viola breathed, although she tried to be calm her voice was more high strung than she intended it to be.

"Please! You have to leave! Go, now!" He wheezed again, fixing them both with a cold stare behind the panes of his reading glasses.

"We're getting out of here," Charon ordered, placing a firm hand on Viola's shoulder and urging her away.

"No, Charon, wait! What? What's wrong? Tell me, we can help."

"No. No one can help! Get out! Out now!" The old man ushered them to the door and both Viola and Charon stumbled back away from the old man's flailing arms. He pushed them out of the door.

"Don't come back! Go!" He implored one last time, slamming the door shut in their faces.

Viola slowly turned to Charon, mouth hanging open.

"What the fuck was that?" She exclaimed, hands reaching for her assault rifle.

"A mad old man," Charon answered bluntly.

"Really? You think he was mad?"

Charon paused before he answered.

"I don't know. We must be cautious." Charon grumbled, striding towards the next house.

Before Viola could ask if they should knock, he slammed open the door, and Viola winced and she ran to catch up and peak between the small gaps remaining in the threshold that he practically filled up.

A woman in her thirties with short blonde hair hurried towards them a look of happy surprise on her face.

"Well, hello! Welcome to Andale! Winner of the greatest town in the USA! It's so good to have you here! My name is Linda Smith," The woman beamed content as if waking from a pleasant dream.

Charon looked at Viola, eyebrows raised.

"Er…Hi, Linda…" Viola said, unable to think of an articulate response to such hospitality and open kindness, especially after the words of warnings from the old man next door.

"Hello to you both! Please tell me, what are you names?" She smiled politely, looking at both her and Charon.

"I'm Charcoal, and this is my companion, Charon," Viola answered as politely as she could.

"Oh how wonderful to have another couple in Andale! It's a shame you won't be staying for long, the Home Owner's association is very strict on who come to live in Andale. Besides, we don't have the room. Andale is the best town in all of the great States! It makes sense that all the houses are already full of happy families!" She chuckled.

"Oh, did you mean couple as in couple or couple as in _couple_? 'Cause we're not a…not a _couple_. We're just two partners who are…you know what, never mind, have you seen a guy called Marty? Wears a Brahmin leather jumpsuit, motorcycle goggles…dark eyes and natural blonde but looks more like brown?" Viola eventually ended up asking whilst simultaneously trying to stop herself blushing.

"Oooh, yes definitely, we had him for dinner," Linda remarked, smiling.

"Did you? We're trying to track him down, did he mention where he was going?" Viola asked, and before Linda could answer she heard footsteps echoing down the stairs just before a man appeared and took his place beside the woman.

"Who do we have here, Linda?"

"Some guests jack. We simply _must_ have them for dinner!" Linda smiled sweetly, like a perfect housewife should when she sees her husband.

Viola cringed. There was something not right. Nothing obvious, but certainly something. The way they acted as if the world around them wasn't blown to shattered pieces by a nuclear war weapon and the way they acted so kindly towards strangers…or maybe she was just paranoid.

"Oh of course! You must stay for dinner sometime," Jack agreed, nodding.

"We were asking about Marty," Charon grumbled, trying to steer the direction of the conversation back to what mattered.

"Marty?" Jack echoed, a hint of confusion stirred into his voice.

"Yes, dear, the lovely you gentlemen we had for dinner a couple of nights ago."

"Oh yes, I remember. What do you good folks want to know about him?"

"Did he mention where he was going at all before he left?" Viola asked.

Jack pondered for a moment.

"No…I'm afraid he didn't say."

Viola looked at Charon and saw him staring wide eyed at something.

"Charon?" Viola asked, concerned.

"We need to leave." He told her briskly, and headed towards the door.

"Oh do come back soon! We'll cook you up something nice!" Linda called after him as Viola graciously turned down the offer.

Once Viola was out Charon slammed the door.

"Why did we need to leave so fast?" Viola scowled and her stomach growled at her. _She really did fancy something to eat._

"Did you not notice something off?" Charon hissed, holding his shotgun.

"Er…I guess they were a little friendly…"

"They were a little insane too."

"Maybe, but they were nice…"

"Viola, they're cannibals."

"_What_?" Viola choked, suddenly her stomach shrinking and appetite fleeing in terror as if for its life.

"Did you not notice their hands? They shook. Too much protein."

"Then…where's Marty?" Viola narrowed her eyes.

"Didn't you hear? _They had him for dinner_."

"Shit…what do we do?" Viola asked.

"I want you to go back to the old man's house, I'll come for you once I've finished with what I have to do."

"What? No! I'm coming with you!"

"Viola, do as I say."

"Why?"

"Because I only have a limited number of bullets left and I'm probably going to use them up killing the two of them in there and all the angry neighbours that might appear. When we go back, we're going to need someone with ammo, and unless they have a shotgun in there it's likely only you will have ammo left."

Viola gritted her teeth.

"I don't like the sound of that…"

Charon grunted.

"Fine, if you need me though, give me a shout." Viola huffed, resigned.

"Fine."

"You promise?"

"…promise."

"Good. God forbid the next time I see you is on fucking Sweeny Todd and Mrs. Lovatt's dinner plates."

* * *

_I am so sorry it took me so long to post guys, Freshers killed me. I am writing this as a ghost...a very hung over and tired ghost. _

_Thanks so much for all the reviews chaps! Special thanks to __**LostOne1775**__ for your continued support, I always love readin your reviews, they cheer me up! Another huge thanks to __**TallTwistedtales **__for your huuuge paragraph which I enjoyed every second of reading, I'm so happy you enjoyed it so much and love how I'm writing the characters! I hope you continue to like and read it. _

_I can't thank you lot enough for being so patient with me! I promise I'll update more often, thanks for all the new follows and favourites, I am so grateful to you all and I hope I continue writing this well enough for you all to keep coming back and reading! Thanks again!_


	19. Retreat

Once Charon watched Viola trudge off into the old man's house as he had instructed, he braced himself for the onslaught that lay ahead of him.

He heard the door swing open behind him and spun, gun in hand, but too late.

Before he could see what hit him, the world began to shudder in his vision like water down a window pane. He let off an un-aimed fire whilst he tried to catch his spinning consciousness.

He eventually managed to see Jack standing in front of him, fumbling for his gun and hurrying to throw down the baseball bat he'd hit him with at the same time. That would buy him some seconds.

He heard footfall behind him, running in the direction of the house Viola was in.

Charon then did something he never thought he would. He neglected to heed the advice of his training. It was a poor decision.

He turned his back on Jack, and lifted his gun towards his running wife instead.

Then everything dropped back dead black.

…

Charon was surprised when he woke up, lying on a cold marble counter top, what was left of his skin shivering against the smooth plane that supported him. It would have been like a morgue if it were not for the firmly fastened rope that tied his wrists and ankels down.

For a moment he found himself thinking, if he were to die, would he even know about it, or would be like being eternally unconscious ?

He once thought that maybe there was something else, something beyond the initial end and something beyond the slam of the coffin lid. Like heaven, perhaps. It used to comfort him. He used to imagine being dead when he was ordered to rot away in the corner of the 9th Circle. It made him feel a little warm inside. But not any more. Yet another of his beliefs he himself cast away as delusional.

He mentally shook off the unwanted thoughts that invaded his brain, and began assessing what was occurring around him. He could voices. Where they distant? No, close. In the same room.

He didn't open his eyes. They were probably waiting for him to come round before doing whatever they were planning, and so instead he lay still and silent. He listened.

"…Jack. I don't think this is a good idea…" An unknown male voice sighed heavily.

"The woman ran off! This is all we have, we have to feed the family, right?" Jack replied sharply.

Charon was stabbed by an emotion he hadn't felt in years…centuries, maybe. He was genuinely hurt. Charon restrained himself from showing any reaction, despite the aching need to paint his pain with his expression.

Charon slashed his emotions dead. He needed to get out of there. Protect the contract holder. Couldn't do that if he was dead…would she have went back to Ahzruhkal? He could have laughed. So much for her having his back. Maybe she was lying all along…about everything. Seeing him as an actually human being and not a machine to be used to kill, why she wanted his contract, even that damned verse she'd pulled out of the bible. Lies. And yet, hidden underneath the thick layer of his initial misery, lay something else. A flicker of relief. She was safe.

Charon again cut down the unwanted resurrected thoughts of Viola. If he survived he could think about his future employer later, for now, he needed to get out of there…if he could.

"…Radiation. I don't want my family getting sick!"

"Bill, listen, we'll just kill him now, cook him up and if he tastes good, then it can't be that unhealthy…besides everything had radiation in it nowadays." Jack shrugged.

"…Fine. We may as well give it a try…where did they woman go anyway? Just run off?" Bill said over the clacks of sharpening a blade.

"That's what Dad said. Can't trust him though, so I had Linda scour the old coots house in case he was hiding her." Jack replied, his footsteps echoing louder as he got closer to Charon before he began removing his armour.

"Do you think we could get a price on these? We could sell it to the next merchant that comes round that we don't decide to have for dinner?"

"We'll see, let's just get this out the way with…" Bill told Jack, stepping up to his side with a Ripper knife clasped in his hands.

Once they'd removed Charon's leather mercenary jacket and boots, Jack nodded to bill.

"Right let's do this before he wakes up."

"Sure."

Bill flicked the switch on the ripper and its chainsaw teeth ground against each other filling the air with a metallic screech. Charon listened to the rustle of the material on Bill's clothes as he leaned forward towards his throat.

Before Bill could stop, Charon arched his exposed stomach out of the line of Billy's chainsaw knife, and let out a roar of rage. In shock Billy dropped the knife onto the table next to Charon's side.

Charon quickly drove the handle of the knife with his torso into the restraints of his one wrist, realising one of his arms. He quickly grabbed the knife and tried to sit up, but failed when he met the resistance of the restraint that bound his other arm.

"Get a gun!" Bill yelled as Jack spun on his heels and made his way to Charon's shotgun that was propped against the wall.

Charon flung the knife which buried itself in the back of Jack's neck who let out a gargling scream of agony before collapsing dead to the floor.

Weapon less, Charon cursed. He'd only bought himself a few more seconds of life. He tried to untie his other arm but heard the drill of another Ripper knife grow closer towards him.

Charon fixed his killer with a burning glare of resilience and snarled through bared teeth. Fighter till the end.

A gun shot sounded and Billy dropped his knife before he could plunge it into Charon's skull, and instead splattered Charon with a cloud like spray of blood.

As Billy dropped he saw a familiar figure standing behind him.

"Did you really think I was going to leave an old man to fend for himself?" Viola grinned.

Charon ground his teeth. Viola laughed.

"Come on, let's get you out of there," Viola chuckled, stepping over Billy's body and up to Charon side, leaning over him to unbuckle his wrist. After trying to untie him and failing, she swore.

"Fuck it's not coming undone!" Viola hissed, tugging at the knot violently.

Charon looked up at her from his back and fought to beat back the unwanted thoughts and ideas that sprang into his head.

"Hang on," She sighed irritably as she picked up the knife from the floor and ripped through his constraints.

"Better?" She purred.

Charon leapt of the table and stretched himself out, cracking his neck and flexing his aching muscles. He stared down at Viola who was gaping at his torso. He cleared his throat.

"Found what you're looking for, Smoothskin?" He growled.

Viola snapped her head up, already quickly colouring with embarrassment. She laughed, shrugging her shoulders.

"Sorry…where did they put your jacket?" She said quickly, spinning around away from him.

"Are you alright? You've turned an alarming shade of red," Charon mocked.

Viola tried to laugh nonchalantly, but ended up squeaking awkwardly. She picked up his jacket off the side and held it out in front of her, opening it up.

"How does this even fit?" She chuckled, looking at Charon over the top of the black leather material.

Charon snorted.

"I mean, you're _huge_!"

"Not the first time a woman has said that to me."

Viola paused, and then blushed profusely.

"I-er..yeah you need this," Viola stuttered shoving his jacket at him.

Charon took it at leisure, slipped it on and began to buckle and zip where necessary.

"You came back then?" Charon said more seriously.

Viola frowned.

"Charon, I never left."

"I heard you ran off."

"I got old man Harris to cover for me, got me in a good hiding spot too while some woman scoured the house for me."

Charon's eyes widened.

"Don't worry, I got them all before I came down here." Viola reassured him and Charon nodded.

"…What did you think when you heard I'd left you?" Viola questioned tentivley.

"Nothing." Charon replied bluntly.

By the look on her face, it wasn't the answer she was hoping for. After a moment of silence, she spoke again.

"How did you end up down here anyway? Mr. Oh so good at fighting?" Viola jibed.

"I saw a woman running to where you were. I turned my back on my opponent to try and kill her before she got to you."

"I don't need protecting, you know. I had my weapons in case of emergencies. " Viola scowled.

Charon said nothing.

"God…the smell down here is awful," Viola coughed as she looked around at the old and new bloodstains splashed over the walls and floor. She let her eyes wander over the hunks of meat slopped over the sides and hanging off rusty hooks in the ceiling and cringed. She caught her eye on a mutilated human torso and quickly moved on.

"Shit this is worse than Raider hide outs…" She wheezed.

"Where are we?"

"We're in the cellar…fucking psychos…"

"Let's get out of here," Charon snorted as he marched towards what he thought was the exit.

"Hey, Big guy," Viola called after him as she hurried up to his side.

"I appreciate it. You keeping an eye out for me."

"If you weren't doing the same, I'd be dead." He said truthfully.

Viola grinned, and allowed herself to chuckle as they climbed the stairs out of the dark, butcher smelling basement and back up into the light.

* * *

_New chapter guys, as a way to apologise for the long wait for the last one. _

_So many reviews! Thank you so much everyone! Thanks to __**LostOne1775**__, __**Yaoikitten, jenivere, **__and __**SeasprayLuv, **__you know how happy reading reviews makes me and I love the support and reading about your opinions and ideas! _

_I'll update again soon, until then, keep safe chaps._


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